


Drabbles

by JocelynTorrent



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drabbles, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Maybe - Freeform, Romance, Smut, basically I'm posting tumblr prompts and asks as chapters, so it varies and is all over the place, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 31,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6086164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocelynTorrent/pseuds/JocelynTorrent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles of Briala and Celene as requested by people on tumblr. Rating varies from General to Explicit, and features all sorts of stories both in the DA universe and Alternate. Feel free to make requests via comments or in my tumblr of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee Shop AUs Pt 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gotta start with coffee shop AUs, don't we?

Briala knows Celene comes in every morning at 6:30. She can set her watch by the blonde who always enters in a business suit, looking as immaculate as ever. Briala doesn’t know what she does, but given the confidence in her walk and designer labels on her outfit, it’s something important. Or at the very least, something that pays well. She has to have money, Briala thinks, given that she can come in and spend $7.50 on grande latte extra hot with whole milk. Briala rarely gets women who use whole milk anymore. Too concerned with their figure. But Celene, spelled C-E-L-E-N-E Briala has since learned, doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. Nor should she, Briala thinks as she watches her fill out pencil skirt and pant suit every weekday morning at 6:30.

They’ve chatted a few times, maybe, when the morning is slow. Simple things like how the weather is outside or if they caught the most recent news story. Celene is patient, polite, and kind and Briala sometimes watches her go, wishing that one day maybe she could walk out with her. It’s an idle fantasy; one she makes about several of the beautiful women that visit her shop. But it’s a nice one all the same, and passes the time until the next beautiful woman walks through the door.

Today, for some reason, they’re really busy. The line is nearly out the door and Briala feels hot and irritated as she scurries around behind the counter. At six thirty, Briala looks up to the door like she always does and sees Celene walk in. She gives the crowd a wide-eyed stare as she gets in line, and smiles worriedly at Briala, who feels the urge to wave and feels like a fool when she does.

They move as quickly as they can, but Briala knows it’s ten minutes past when Celene usually leaves. She keeps looking at her watch and shuffling from foot to foot. Occasionally, Celene will turn and eye the door, and Briala feels a strange disappointment in her gut when she does. When Celene is second from the front, Briala writes her order on a cup and when Celene steps up to the counter it’s ready-made and piping hot. Briala smiles gently and pushes the cup towards her, not bothering with stating the amount. It’s the same amount every day, and Celene always has her cash ready. She’s a perfect customer, as far as they go.

Celene looks down at the cup, then up at Briala curiously. A slow smile crosses her face, and Briala watches as she dumps the money in her purse and pulls out a credit card instead. It catches Briala off guard, but she runs it anyway, turning to shout orders to the other baristas as the receipt prints. Celene signs the receipt quickly, well aware of the line behind her, but instead of leaving it on the counter, she places it in Briala’s hand. With a final wink, she turns and is out the door. Briala looks down at the receipt and finds a phone number next to the signature.

* * *

 

They’ve never been this busy before. Or maybe they have, but Briala’s had better people on staff to help her. She’s the only senior barista until noon, and now at 7am she’s not sure if she’s going to make it. The new guys are trying, but there’s only so much they can do, and she’s forced to run between the counter and drive-thru and making the coffee, all the while trying to train as she goes. She can sense the impatience in the room, the passive aggressive whispers from those waiting in line. The new guys are scared to death of their grimaces, but Briala can’t bring herself to care; she’s too busy to.

She doesn’t exactly know how happened, but somehow, scalding milk splashes onto her hand. Briala drops the cup and curses loudly, bending over as she frantically tries to wipe the burning liquid from her hand. She’s been burned before, several times, but not on such a large area, and she feels tears come to her eyes as her hand seizes up and aches. The new girl next to her asks if she’s okay while eyeing the line, and before Briala can answer, the customer at the counter speaks up.

“Can I get some service _today?”_ he shouts, to the nod of a few behind him.

“This is ridiculous,” another calls from the back.

Briala straightens up and keeps her hand at her side, trying to keep it as still as possible as she flashes a fake smile to the customer. “What can I get for you, sir?”

Someone at the drive-thru honks their horn, and Briala isn’t sure if the tears in her eyes are from pain or frustration. The man crosses his arms and looks at her condescendingly.

“I’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes.”

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re very busy and training new people and—

“That’s not my problem.”

Briala grits her teeth and looks down at her hand. The burn is bad, but there’s nothing she can do about it right now. “If I could take your order, I could—

“I’ve already given it!”

Briala sighs and places her hands on the counter. A blonde head peers over the shoulder of the angry customer and Briala watches her eyebrows rise as they fall upon her hands. With a sharp elbow, she shoves the man out of the way and stands at the front of the counter, gently taking Briala’s palm in her hand.

“ _Excuse me_ ,” the man, now purple in the face, shouts. “I was ordering!”

“No, you were complaining,” the blonde says. “There’s overpriced coffee on every street corner. You don’t like the pace, go somewhere else.”

“I’m entitled to—

“You’re entitled to nothing,” the woman says, turning around to face him. “This woman has a severe burn on her hand and all you care about is making sure someone’s here to listen to your tantrum. Grow up, or get out.”

A few of the patrons clap as the woman turns back around and looks at Briala’s hand. Briala doesn’t dare meet the eyes of the other customer so she lowers the cap on her head and keeps her head down as the trainees behind her scurry about and try their best to fill orders. The woman takes her hand again, touches the uninjured part gently.

“You should put some cold water on this.”

Briala nods dumbly.

“I mean…now,” the woman says with a hint of a smile in her voice.

Briala lifts her head and looked to the trainees. They all shrug or nod their heads. The woman’s little diatribe seems to have placated the customers for now, and her hand does still ache. So she keeps her head down and makes her way around the counter to the bathroom. She doesn’t realize the woman has followed her until she hears the door catch behind her. She turns and the woman smiles at her again before turning the tap on. She puts Briala’s hand under and holds it gently. The water feels good, and Briala works her hand beneath the water.

“Well, it doesn’t look too bad,” the woman comments.

“Thanks for, uh, your help,” Briala says quietly.

“I was worried you wouldn’t treat it unless someone forced you. I’m Celene.”

“I’m, um, Briala…” Briala answers, pointing awkwardly to her nametag.

Celene chuckles. “Yes, I figured that.”

“Yeah? Because it can be kind of confusing, you know, having a nametag with your name on it and having people expect that to be your name.”

Celene reaches up and pops the bill of Briala’s hat, bringing it over her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she teases.

“Yeah, well…you’re lucky you’re cute, too,” Briala answers as she fixes her hat.

“Don’t…take this the wrong way,” Celene says slowly, a smile on the corner of her lips, “But I’m kinda glad you burned your hand.”

“Yeah,” Briala laughs. “Yeah, me too, now.”

* * *

 

“Let me guess,” Briala called out from behind the counter as Celene stepped into the coffee shop. “You want not-coffee.”

“You are correct,” Celene called back with a teasing smirk as she neared.

“You’re killing me slowly, woman. Do you know that? Do you care?”

Celene shrugged innocently. “I’m a tea person. What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to _say_ anything. I want you to try my amazing coffee.”

“Does the ego come free of charge?”

Briala smiled, reaching for the tea Celene pointed to during their banter. “Doesn’t it always? Come on, I can brew you the best coffee you’ve ever had in your life.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Celene said with a sigh as she watched Briala prepare her tea. “The problem is that I don’t like coffee.”

Briala feigned a shot to the chest, complete with wincing and groans and going so far as to pull her hat off and place it over her chest. “What did I do to deserve that? Am I not always nice to you?”

“Other than berating my tastes every single morning you’re perfectly pleasant.”

“I’ve got a light roast… Intellegentsia,” Briala teased with a waggle of her eyebrows.

Celene shook her head and offered a polite smile. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“You wound me. Every day you come in and wound me. I should ban you from this shop. This is my shop, you know? I can do that. I have authority here,” Briala said as she handed a finely made cup of tea to Celene. She took it and gave a small sip, and Briala’s smile widened as she watched her enjoy the taste.

“You’ve told me many times. Go ahead. Do it.”

They narrowed their eyes at each other, and Briala playfully tossed a napkin at Celene. “You’re lucky I like a challenge.”

Celene balled the napkin up and threw it back at her, placing her money on the counter and giving a wink as she walked away.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Briala said as Celene walked in the next morning. She ignored Celene’s audible groan and leaned forward on the counter. “How about a latte? I can make the cute designs. I’ll make you whatever you want.”

Celene pondered for a moment and leaned on the counter as well, their faces just a few inches apart. “Actually, I was considering a latte today. It’s so cold out.”

Briala’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes. A chai tea latte.”

It was Briala’s turn to groan, slamming her head onto the counter. She smirked to herself as she felt Celene pet her sympathetically on the head. “You could make me a design in that if you want.”

“That’s not how this works, Celene. That’s not how any of this works,” Briala pouted, lifting herself from the counter to prepare the drink. “It’s a lot harder, there’s a lot of science and pretention involved but…what do you want on it, anyway?”

Celene shrugged, unable to hide the slight excitement in her eyes. “Surprise me.”

Briala made her a Rosetta with a heart on top, the best she’d ever made on a chai, and blushed when Celene gushed that she didn’t want to drink it. At Briala’s coaxing, and after taking a picture, Celene finally did, and Briala laughed at the foam on her lip before having to look away as Celene’s tongue snaked out to catch it.

“This is the day, Celene,” she called the next morning, watching Celene heave a sigh. “This is the day you drink my coffee and fall in love.”

“Your arrogance has me intrigued, if nothing else,” Celene said as she made her way over. Briala set a small cup in front of her, already filled.

“This is my best work yet,” Briala said with a nod.

Celene looked at the coffee. It was black. No designs, no milk, no spices. Though she’d been down the milk road with Briala several times before and definitely did not want to go back. For all her distaste of coffee, she probably knew more about it than most thanks to Briala’s endless exuberance over the beans. Briala leaned forward, bringing them close together again.

“What do I have to do to get you to try this coffee? I’ll do anything,” she asked, and Celene was surprised by the sudden sincerity in her voice.

“Anything?”

Briala regarded Celene’s raised eyebrow nervously, but nodded. Celene would probably request some milky, syrupy monstrosity after this, but it would all be worth it. Licking her lips, Celene looked down at the cup once more before she nodded.

“Okay. Have dinner with me.”

Briala shot back so quickly that she knocked over a cup of artificial sweeteners. The pink packets spilled to the floor around her but she paid them no mind, even as her cheeks blushed bright red. Celene smiled somewhat nervously, and Briala chuckled, looking down to pick up a few of the packets.

“I…um, I…yeah, yeah definitely. That’s, um, that’s hardly a, uh punishment though, you know?”

“How quickly that arrogance falters when you’re asked to make good on it,” Celene chuckled, placing a hand over Briala’s to still it. “Now pay attention. Apparently my life is about to change.”

Briala laughed and watched as Celene brought the cup to her lips. She took a small sip, and then another, and finally a third before setting the cup down. Briala tapped her fingers on the counter eagerly. “Well? Do you like it? Can you taste the currant?”

“Maybe…at the end there. It’s…certainly not bad. You make a very good coffee.”

Briala laughed softly and hung her head before meeting Celene’s eyes. “You still prefer tea, don’t you?”

“I’m afraid I do.”

“Well, you’re lucky I make very good teas, too.”

“It’s the reason I put up with your pretentious prattling every day.”

Briala leaned forward on the counter again, taking the coffee and replacing it with a favorite tea of Celene’s that she’d already made. “Hopefully not the only reason?”

Celene took the tea with a smile. “No, not the only reason,” she confirmed as she brought it to her lips.

* * *

 

“Hot regular coming up!” Felassan shouted into the espresso machine before he turned to Briala and smirked.

Briala blushed, as she did every morning when Felassan announced the cute blonde’s arrival. She cursed the day she ever told him that she thought Celene was hot. Her life had certainly been made worse, since. Thankfully, Celene didn’t seem to notice Felassan’s nickname for her and she smiled at him as he waltzed over to the cash register to take her order.

“Good morning, Celene. Looking as beautiful as always,” he purred, waggling his eyebrows.

Celene rolled her eyes playfully. “What would I do without you to brighten my mornings, Felassan?”

“Let’s not think about such dark things so early. What can I get for you today? A ray of sunshine? No, you seem to be resplendent enough.”

“Working the tip jar hard today, I see.”

“I am. But let’s be clear. I’m not working in money, I’m working in numbers.”

“I don’t follow.”

Felassan jerked his head towards Briala, who was intensely focused on cleaning one of the milk frothers. “You know Briala, right?”

Celene followed his eyes and smiled softly at the back of Briala’s head. “I do.”

“Well, she’s lonely and sad and pathetic and—

“Don’t be cruel, Felassan.”

“Her words! Not mine!” he promised, crossing a hand over his heart. “Anyway, she’s been complaining about not having a girlfriend for…since I’ve met her. But as you can see, reasons like this,” he gestured to her still turned adamantly away, “are why she doesn’t have a girlfriend. Hiding in the milk machine does not a smooth talker make.”

Celene chuckled. “So you’re hitting on me for her?”

Felassan waggled his eyebrows again. “I figured it couldn’t hurt. She never shuts up about how attractive you are, how nice you are, how you must have worked customer service before because you know exactly how to do everything.” He enunciated each word and rolled his eyes as he danced from foot to foot. Celene felt herself blushing and glanced Briala’s way. She watched her for a moment, then shrugged, taking a pen from her purse and writing her number on a napkin. Felassan seemed surprised as he took the napkin and looked it over, then he smiled at Celene.

“Drink’s on the house today, pretty lady.”

* * *

 

“Want your free biscotti today?” Briala asked as she set Celene’s tea on the counter.

Celene smiled almost shyly. “I admit, I was eyeing that pumpkin spice.”

“Coming right up,” Briala returned, fetching a piece and putting it into a paper bag. “See you tomorrow. Have a good day.”

“You too, Briala,” Celene answered, tipping her drink towards her before heading out the door.

Briala watched her go, and only when her blonde head disappeared from sight did she ring up the biscotti and put her own money into the cash register. Just as she’d done every day for the past three weeks.

“You are so lame,” Felassan said behind her.

Briala jumped, nearly spilling her change, and waved him away with her hand. “Mind your own business, Fel.”

“Seriously, Bria, those stale pieces of bread are five bucks. As much money as you’ve spent on this woman you could have taken her to a nice dinner already.”

Briala slammed the register drawer shut and turned to face him, her cheeks flush. “You put the ‘ass’ in Felassan.”

“Oh ho, how long did it take you to come up with that one?”

“Just shut up. Get back to work or something.”

“Ask her out, Bria. I’m not kidding. She won’t say no.”

“She most certainly will say no.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t know that she won’t.”

Felassan sighed and threw his hands in the air. “Fine, throw your savings away on stale bread just to make her smile at you. But while you keep your fucking head down all the time, she’s already smiling at you.” He finished by throwing a paper cup at Briala, who dodged it and gave him the finger. Cheeks burning, she picked up the cup and stalked to the trashcan, eager to ignore him for the rest of the day.

The next morning, Briala just happened to be in the back when Celene entered. Felassan grinned kindly at the blonde woman, noticing how her eyes casually glanced around the coffee shop. Not finding who she was looking for, Celene flashed Felassan a polite smile and placed her order.

“What’d you think of the pumpkin spice biscotti yesterday?” he asked as he wrote her name on her cup.

“It was milder than I hoped. But good,” Celene said with a polite nod.

Felassan returned it. “I’ll be sure to tell Briala that her hard earned money isn’t going to waste.”

Celene frowned, tilting her head to the side in a manner that even Felassan found endearing. “Pardon?”

“That so called free biscotti? Yeah, she’s been buying it for you. Because she likes you but doesn’t know how to interact with humans. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Yes, I would. Thank you. Should…I should pay for,” Celene sighed in frustration and dug into her purse. “How much for…three weeks of biscotti?”

Felassan chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t tell you to make you feel guilty. I told you so that you could make a move on Briala, if you wanted, and she could put that hard earned cash towards dinner or a movie, instead. If you’re interested…of course.”

Celene put her checkbook back in her purse and nodded as she took her tea. She paused for a moment, frowned, then nodded one more time to Felassan before heading out the door. Felassan watched her go and drummed his fingers on the counter, hoping he hadn’t been wrong.

“Would you like you free biscotti today?” Briala asked the next morning, hand automatically going towards the tongs.

“No.”

Briala stopped and turned to eye Celene. Her chin was lifted, and she didn’t look quite as pleasant as she normally did. Immediately, Briala shot a glance to Felassan, who began to whistle innocently and she sighed as she turned back to Celene.

“It’s not free, is it, Briala?”

“I…no.”

“How much money have you spent on this?”

“…Eighty or so.”

Her cheeks were fuming, heart racing as she looked up into Celene’s eyes. Her face betrayed nothing and Briala licked her lips nervously, her head instinctively lowering as it did when she was nervous. A single finger touched beneath her chin and lifted it, forcing Briala’s eyes to meet Celene’s again. Celene’s face relaxed, and she smiled kindly.

“Well, allow me to make it even. Are you available for dinner tonight?”

Briala’s mouth fell open, and her nerves made her shake her head. “You don’t have to do that. I—I won’t do it again. I’m sorry I—

“But I’d like to,” Celene interjected softly.

“You…sure about that?”

Celene’s laugh caused Briala to relax just a bit. “I’m positive. If you’re interested. Though…after eighty dollars’ worth of biscotti, I’d hope you’d be.”

“Oh…okay, um, yeah I’m free tonight.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at eight then?”

Felassan, mercifully, stayed silent while they discussed details, only sauntering over after Celene left with her tea and a biscotti that she paid for herself.

“So, would you like to tell me how right I was, or should I tell you how right I was?”

“You put the ‘ass’ in—

“Yeah, yeah _, I know,_ Bria. Get some better insults.”


	2. Pregnancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble of Celene telling Briala she is pregnant with their child in modern AU

“Celene?” She called, dropping her keys and purse on the table by the door.

There was the sound of shuffling in the kitchen, and Celene came into view. She smiled widely at Briala and extended her arms, pulling her wife into her arms. “Surprise,” she murmured into her ear.

Briala laughed and pulled back enough to give her a gentle kiss. “What strings did you pull to get home so early?”

“I may have a little pull at the office.”

“A little, huh?”

“Mhmm.”

Celene pulled Briala in again and though Briala hugged her back, she couldn’t stop her brow from furrowing.

“So, any reason for coming home early?”

“Yes, actually. I have something for you.”

Taking Briala by the hand, Celene led her into the living room and plopped her on the couch. Briala crossed one leg over the other and raised her eyebrow eagerly at Celene, who smirked before heading back into the kitchen. She returned with her arms behind her back, and extended a small wrapped box to Briala.

“Oh, Celene, you shouldn’t have,” Briala said as she took the gift, touching Celene’s cheek when she sat down next to her.

“Maybe open it first before saying that.”

Briala shook the box gently by her ear. It sounded like another box was inside. She looked to her wedding ring for a moment and wondered if Celene had purchased her more jewelry. But she wasn’t all that much of a jewelry person, and Celene knew that. Deciding to just give in to her curiosity, Briala unwrapped the box and peered inside.

A pacifier.

Briala couldn’t bring herself to believe it. She tipped the pacifier onto her hand and turned it slowly around. It was green, and so much smaller than she’d ever realized. Briala felt her chest begin to swell and she couldn’t stop the grin that spread onto her face. Celene laughed next to her and Briala turned to face her, placing a hand on her stomach.

“You’re pregnant?” she whispered as tears lined her eyes.

Celene nodded, her face red from excitement. “Finally, yes.”

Briala lunged forward and kissed Celene, pushing her back down onto the couch. When she broke the kiss, Briala crawled down Celene’s torso and quickly undid the buttons of her blouse, exposing her stomach. It was still flat, of course, still the same stomach Briala was used to seeing every day. But entirely different all the same. She kissed all over Celene’s stomach before resting her nose against it.

“It’s about time you got here,” she murmured into Celene’s navel. “And I don’t know what took you so long. You’re going to have a great mother,” she finished, looking up into Celene’s shining eyes.

“Great _mothers_ ,” Celene clarified, reaching out to touch Briala’s cheek.

Briala moved up towards Celene again and kissed her deeply, her hand never leaving Celene’s stomach. 


	3. Brialene try BDSM and Fail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things just aren't for everyone.

Briala lay naked on her back on Celene’s bed. Her arms and legs were splayed, tied to each corner of Celene’s bed, putting her in the shape of an X over the sheets. Celene circled the bed with her head tilted to the side and lightly tapped her finger off of one of the ropes. It bounced with tautness and Celene gave an approving nod. Briala gave her a wide smile that did not quite mask the elf’s unease.

“Are you sure about this, Briala?” Celene asked again.

Briala groaned throwing her eyes to the ceiling. “We won’t know until we try, Celene.”

“But do you even like pain?”

“I…don’t know.” Briala tugged gently on the straps, feeling them dig into her wrists. “This…well, I suppose I’m not getting pleasure from it, but neither are you really helping.”

“Why don’t I just untie them and—

“Celene, it took you two hours to tie them properly. At least let me spend ten minutes in them.”

Celene sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching as Briala tried to get into the moment. Suddenly, Briala’s nose crinkled, and her head rolled around on the pillows.

“Maker, Celene, my nose! It itches so badly. Please—

“I don’t think I’m supposed to…” Celene said slowly, reaching for the bizarre tome Lady Seryl had forcibly given her and flipping through the pages. “Yes, I’m not supposed to give in to your demands. In fact, you’re not supposed to have any demands at all.”

“ _Celene, please,”_

“But you’re the one that wanted to give this a try, Bria.”

“THIS ISN’T WHAT I MEANT PLEASE SCRATCH MY NOSE.”

“I’m exceedingly confused on what role you want me to play.” Celene frowned and turned to the book again, tilting her head to the side, eyes wide as she read over certain parts. “Oh, that sounds unpleasant,” she murmured to herself as she flipped the page. “Candlewax? I never would have thought…”

Briala sighed and clenched her teeth, clearly having been forgotten. “Gaspard,” she called out.

Celene turned abruptly, a look of utter confusion on her face and Briala rolled her eyes again, bouncing up and down as much as she was able in the restraints.

“It’s the _safe word_ , Celene.”

“Oh! Oh, right. Shall I untie you or—

“No! No, no, no, no, no, just please scratch my nose now?”

Celene sighed and placed her palm on Briala’s nose, holding it there as Briala rubbed against it and eased the itch. When she was finally relieved, Briala let out a pleased sigh and Celene took her hand away, looking at it warily before she wiped it on the bed. “Now what?” she asked as she examined her fingernails.

“Could you _try_ to be more into this?”

“You used the safe word so I could scratch your nose. I don’t think you’re all that into it either.”

Briala sighed, but flashed Celene an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better.”

Celene nodded and leaned over the bed to kiss her. “I will, as well.”

“Good. Now climb on top of me.”

“I thought _I_ was supposed to give the demands,” Celene whined even as she obeyed, straddling Briala’s hips. Once she was settled, Celene ran her hands over Briala’s body. The touches were nice, soft, and gentle as Celene always had been. Briala felt her body responding as it always did, but it wasn’t because of the restraints, and she frowned as she looked up at Celene.

“I think I want you to slap me.”

Celene opened her mouth to respond, then closed it with a shake of her head. She lifted her hand barely slapped her fingers against Briala’s cheek.

“That wasn’t a slap,” Briala said simply.

Celene slapped a little harder, but not enough to warrant any pain. Then she sighed and sat back on Briala’s thighs. “I don’t know if I _can_ slap you, Bria.”

“Yes you can, just get angry at me and let it fly.”

“But—

“Remember that time you fell into Gaspard’s coup? So embarrassing.”

Celene’s eyes darkened. “There’s no need to be so—

“Remember that time I swindled you out of the Eluvians?”

Her brow furrowed, but it wasn’t angry enough. “Bria, I don’t think—

“You looked fat in that gown at the gala last night. Everyone was saying so.”

_Smack!_

Briala’s mouth hung open, cheek burning as she stared wide up at Celene, who looked just as shocked. The empress looked to her hand, then to Briala, waiting for her next move. Briala took a deep breath, and released it with a shout.

“ _Maker that hurt!_ Am I bleeding?”

Tears stung Briala’s eyes as she opened her mouth and tried to regain feeling in her cheek. Celene reached forward and gently placed her hand on Briala’s face, stroking it softly as she eyed the redness.

“Oh, Bria, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Don’t apologize. I made you do it. But…I did not feel any pleasure from that.”

Celene continued to gently rub Briala’s cheek, but she smiled softly. “No?”

“No. And…I’m starting to get sore from these.”

“Not everything has to be for us, you know?”

“I know.”

Seeing the slight disappointment in Briala’s eyes, Celene leaned over and kissed her gently, keeping herself close as she spoke. “What do you say I undo these restraints and give you a massage instead?”

Briala thought for a moment, and a sly smirk touched the corner of her lips. “I like that idea much better. Get me out of these.”

“And then we burn them?”

“No, then we send them to Seryl. Maker knows she can find a use for them.”


	4. Seryl Likes to Make Brialene Uncomfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note this features characters from my other fic, The Most Dangerous Game, but I don't think it's necessary to read that to understand what's going on here.

“Celene.”

“Seryl.”

“Briala.”

“Seryl.”

The old woman smiled to herself, knowing that it made the other two uncomfortable. Briala hid her unease better than Celene, but then again, Celene was not known to glower like the marquise. Seryl chuckled as she stood on the balcony with the two of them, knowing full well she’d interrupted a moment. It wasn’t a _juicy_ moment, unfortunately. If it was, Seryl would have been more than content to hide in the bushes and watch. As it was, however, the only action she received was a coy smile from Celene in Briala’s direction. Cloister sisters, honestly.

It could be that Seryl was feeling generous, or it could be that she was on her third flask. But whatever the reason, she decided to take it upon herself to get these two lovebirds to talk. And when Seryl set her mind to it, there was nothing she couldn’t do.

“I’ve noticed your nails have returned to their usual length, Celene,” she commented lightly, “Or lack thereof.”

Celene glanced disinterestedly down at her fingers. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You don’t have to. So long as the one they’re going inside of does.”

“ _Seryl!”_ the two of them hissed simultaneously.

“What? Have I touched a nerve? I bet you’ve touched a few of those a time or two, eh, marquise?” she asked, nudging Briala with her elbow.

“This is highly inappropriate, Seryl,” Celene commanded, her hands suspiciously rolled into fists to hide her nails.

“Why is sex inappropriate, your majesty? Moreover, who in Andraste’s stinkin’ grace is here to eavesdrop?” She gestured around the grand balcony that hung over a cliff face with the sea out before it. Seryl took ahold of the railing and leaned over to peer at the choppy waves below. “If anyone’s down there eavesdropping they deserve to know that the Empress of Orlais quite likes a tongue lashing! Especially if it’s from—

Hands clapped onto her shoulders and pulled her back over the railing. Seryl swerved a little on her feet and chuckled at the sight of the two flushed nobles in front of her. “You two are preposterously easy. Think no one noble’s ever had a stranger in their bed?”

“Be that as it may, it’s _our_ business, should we choose to share it,” Briala retorted, crossing her arms. She stood just in front of Celene as if she was protecting her.

“Oh, it’s just a bit of fun, marquise,” Seryl said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I know for a fact it’s not all that interesting anyway. You two probably don’t even know there’s a shop right here in Val Royeaux that sells attachable penises!”

Celene’s eyes widened as Briala grimaced. She’d passed the shop on occasion when out spying for Celene. A dark little hole where many a nobles’ servants could be seen coming and going. Seryl watched as a sinister smile touched the elf’s lips. She looked back to Celene, still wide-eyed, and shrugged. “I guess the secret is out, Celene.” She turned back to Seryl. “Not only did we know that, Seryl, but we know what _else_ that shop sells as well. And we may have purchased a few of them.”

Seryl’s eyes widened in delight. “Surely you don’t mean the—

“Oh yes,” Briala said with a nod, stepping nearer to Seryl’s ear. “And the…” she dropped her voice to a whisper, leaving Celene out of the conversation. The empress could only stare on in horror as Briala spoke all sorts of lies to the sauciest gossip in all of Orlais.

Seryl gasped, then frowned, looking Celene up and down before she turned to Briala. “Surely she can’t fit that,” she said, gesturing to Celene.

“She can if you do it properly,” Briala said easily.

“What? _Fit what?”_ Celene asked, unable to keep the horror from her voice. Briala gave her a subtle wink, but it did nothing to ease her nerves.

“Andraste’s tits, I’d prance nude on Gaspard’s grave in to see that, marquise,” Seryl sighed in wonderment.

“I’ve considered it. But she’s a bit…shy when it comes to performing.”

“Cloister sister,” Seryl agreed, nodding to Celene.

“Maker’s breath, I am _not_ —

“Hey,” Seryl interrupted Celene. “Isn’t it against your Chant of Light to say his name in vain?”

Celene threw up her hands. “I don’t have to stand here and be ridiculed by you two,” she said flatly before turning and making her way back inside.

Seryl nudged Briala again. “Now you’ve gone and made her angry. And as I’m sure you know, Briala, angry sex is the best sex.”

There was a momentary flutter in Briala’s eyes before they glazed back over to their icy calm. Seryl noticed it, and was unfortunately for Briala not drunk enough to mistake it for anything but what it was. Her eyes widened again, a cackle croaking from the back of her throat as she slapped Briala on the back.

“You were lying! I knew you two didn’t have it in you. Maker, let me breathe,” she roared, gripping Briala’s shoulder to keep her from sprinting away. “You’re just too much. Here I was falling for it, and you can’t even bring yourself to consider the empress pinning you against a wall and fucking you til your legs fall off—see! Look at that blush! Oh, I don’t know why you try, marquise. You and Sister Daisy Prude over there are as bland as they come. And that’s fine, in the grand scheme of things. But don’t think I won’t try to change your minds every chance I get.”

Jaw clenched and thoroughly flushed, Briala stormed away from Seryl’s cackling and made her way off the balcony. The servant girl, Jenara, came forward then with a dipped head. “Sh-shall I escort you to your room, Lady Seryl?” she asked nervously

Seryl was about to dismiss the girl until she noticed a purple mark just above the elf’s high collar. She reached out and pulled the collar down, revealing a violent looking love mark.

“Maker’s breath,” she breathed. “Here I was trying to chat those ninnies up when you were standing right over here. You’re the kind of girl I’m looking for?”

“I…I’m sorry, my lady?” Jenara asked as she fumbled with her collar, lifting it higher to conceal the mark.

“Looks like you like it rough, little one. Who is it? Are they here? Gotta see if they’re man…” she paused and looked at Jenara, “or woman enough to handle you.”

“I’m afraid I don’t—

“Jenara?” Adele called, stepping onto the balcony. “The empress requests your presence.”

It took only one look from Jenara to Adele for Seryl to make the connection. She gasped loudly, and crossed the balcony in two large strides to come before Adele. Without a word she reached out and touched Adele’s bicep.

“Oooh my, yes. She looks like she might be woman enough to handle you, little one. Could throw you around like a ragdoll if you wished.” Seryl purred slightly and ran her hand over Adele’s muscle again.

“She does. Likes to be thrown all around. You should show her your back, Jenara,” Adele said with a playful roll of her eyes.

“YES, JENARA, SHOW ME YOUR BACK. My…that’s the fastest elf I’ve ever seen,” Seryl said as she watched Jenara sprint off the balcony.

“She’s shy outside of the bedroom,” Adele answered, crossing her arms. “Especially when I go for the ears…”

“Adele, I believe we’re going to be _good_ friends.”

Briala found the empress writing furiously at her desk and watched her for a few moments, rocking idly from one foot to the other. Celene sighed and put down her pen.

“I don’t appreciate the two of you ganging up on me,” she clipped.

“So…you’re still angry.”

“Yes, I’m still angry. What in Andraste’s name were you even suggesting to her?”

“You don’t want to know,” Briala answered with a shake of her head. “But…I don’t suppose, since you’re angry…you’d be willing to…”

Celene lifted her eyebrows impatiently. “Do what, Bria?”

“Pin me against the wall and fuck me til my legs fall off?”

Celene’s mouth fell open in surprise. Briala gave a weak smile, and the empress shook her head as she closed her eyes and sighed.

“She’s getting to you, Bria. Remind me to have her banned from the manor tomorrow.”

Briala nodded, slightly disappointed, and Celene rolled her eyes, stepping nearer. She lifted Briala’s chin with a single crooked finger and kissed her gently on the lips. “I don’t have to be angry to do that to you, Briala,” she whispered in a tone that made the elf shiver. “But since it was clearly Seryl’s idea, you’ll forgive me if I’m not in the mood.”

“Well…maybe we could beat Seryl at her own game and just…cuddle?”

“That sounds like a good idea.”


	5. Photography AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celene finds something other than nature to take a picture of and gets more than she bargained for.

It was the first real snow of winter. A few inches covered the ground, concealing the pesky dried grass beneath. Celene sauntered slowly through Central Park and kept her eyes alert to her surroundings. There was something beautiful to be found here. She knew it and gripped her camera tightly as she listened to her boots crunch in the snow. Nature magazines were always looking for striking winter scenes and paid good money for them, especially if they were her photos. Celene didn’t really see the appeal herself. Winter was cold and gloomy and gray and, as a photographer, she could understand the contrast that made winter photos visually appealing, but she much preferred warmer, bright summer shots.

A leafless tree stood out to her, branches sticking out like charcoal colored spindles against the light sky. Celene brushed falling snowflakes from her eyelashes and took a few shots. It was nice, but it wasn’t quite what she was looking for. She flipped through the images on her camera as she walked, and lifted her head to check where she was going. It was then that she saw her.

She was sitting on a park bench with one leg crossed over the other. A book was in her lap but instead her eyes were turned to the sky, a small smiled playing on her lips as she watched the snow fall. Celene felt her mouth go dry at this woman who’s darker skin contrasted so beautifully with the snow and even darker hair with hints of red that curled and fell around her face. She stood out in the snow, vibrant despite her black coat and hat. Her fingers itched to snap a picture. Cliche as it was, Celene often felt that good pictures came to her, not the other way around. She didn’t like setting up scenes and manipulating the world to find beauty in it. She preferred to capture the beauty already within, and with that thought, Celene lifted her camera and captured this woman.

The camera loved her, and Celene felt herself getting into a zone of sorts as she snapped her from various angles. She wasn’t even aware she’d been caught until she saw the woman meet her eyes through the camera lens. Celene’s eyes widened and she quickly dropped the camera to her waist. Instinct told her to run, that she had somehow violated this woman and was suddenly the dirtiest person in all of New York City. Logic kept her feet planted, told her that she was well within her rights to photograph things and people on public property, and that this woman was owed an explanation. And it seemed that she wanted one, for she had since risen from the bench and was making her way towards Celene.

Her eyes were dark, mischievous, and a smile played on the corner of her lips as she neared, hands in the pocket of her coat. Celene wished she could photograph her now, capture the expression in the hopes that it could spur the same emotions in others that it did to her. Instead she gripped tightly to her camera and tried to calm her racing heart as the woman finally approached her. She smiled slowly at Celene, then lowered her eyes to the camera and back up.

“Is this the part where you ask if I’m a model?” She inquired, her voice smooth and confident.

Celene’s eyes widened and she shook her head, feeling a blush warm her cheeks. “What? No!” Seeing the woman’s face fall slightly in surprise, she quickly added, “N-not that you’re not beautiful. I mean, you probably could model, if you wanted to. I-i just…” Celene sighed and ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. The woman chuckled next to her.

“Are you doing that Humans of New York thing, too?”

“No, I…I usually do, um, nature. I just saw you and…you know what, im sorry. I’ll delete them right now. I should have asked and–

The woman’s gloved hand came to rest over Celene’s, stilling her from fiddling with her camera. Celene looked up into her eyes and felt her heart racing again, her throat going dry. The woman smiled and inclined her head towards the camera. “May I see?”

Not in any position to say no, Celene showed her the candid shots she did of her on the bench. The woman went through them slowly and chuckled softly at a few of them, then continued on into a few nature shots. Celene had never felt so scrutinized in her life, and she’d submitted to National Geographic. This woman made her nervous. She was sure of herself, and although she was kind, Celene had no doubt that she was a true New Yorker and could put her in her place if she felt it necessary. It didn’t help that her hair looked so soft and shiny and in their closeness, Celene could catch the barest hints of her shampoo, sweet and light.

“Well, you certainly know what you’re doing,” she said after a moment, handing the camera back to Celene and extending her hand. “I’m Briala.”

“Celene.”

“Celene,” she repeated slowly, smiling as if she liked the sound of it on her lips. “Do you need any more?”

“Are you…are you offering?” Celene practically squeaked.

Briala chuckled again. “I am. If you need it.”

“I…well, I won’t say no to a model.”

They walked through Central Park together, talking as Celene snapped pictures of various nature or captured shots of Briala. The camera truly loved her, and despite knowing she was being photographed, Briala looked candid in every single one of them, a natural. When they’d made their way back to the original bench, Celene found herself somewhat disappointed. Briala sighed next to her and for a moment Celene allowed herself to believe she was disappointed too.

Fishing in her pocket, Celene pulled out her card and extended it to Briala. “Here’s my card,” she said quietly. “If you want copies of these, just let me know.”

Briala took it and smiled widely as she glanced down at the card. Then she looked up at Celene and studied her for a moment before shoving her hands back into her jacket. She looked around and stepped closer to Celene.

“And…what if I wanted more than just copies?” She asked in a low voice.

Celene swallowed. She hadn’t missed Briala’s flirting during their walk, and had even engaged in it as much as her nerves would allow. But now that Briala made good on it, she found what little confidence she had dwindling.

“I…I’m sorry?”

Briala jerked her head to the right. “There’s a really nice coffee shop a few blocks down. Would you be interested in warming up with me?” When Celene hesitated, Briala grinned and leaned forward. “I’ll let you take more pictures,” she teased.

Flushed, Celene could only nod, and it took Briala taking her hand for Celene to remember she had legs and walk side by side with her out of the park.Walking out of the coffee shop, much warmer than when they started out Briala asked for one last picture. 

“A selfie,” she says with a smirk, taking Celene’s large and expensive camera.

 “Of us, together.”

“You may be model material, but I am not,” Celene said with a blush, tucking her hair behind her cheek.

“Oh, please, you’re beautiful. Now come here.” 

Briala pulled Celene in, cheek to cheek, and held the camera out in front of them. Celene smiled, and right before the shutter clicked, Briala turned her head and kissed Celene’s cheek. Celene’s eyes widened in surprise and Briala laughed as she looked at the photo they took together. If Celene didn’t know any better, she would have thought they’d been together forever. Briala looked happy, and even though Celene’s face was rather comical, she did look like she enjoyed it. And she had. Briala grinned at the picture and handed the camera back to Celene. 

“That one’s my favorite. We take good pictures together, don’t we?”

“We do.”

“I look forward to taking more,” Briala said with a wink, leaning in to kiss Celene on the cheek again. “I’ll call you,” she murmured into her ear, leaving Celene breathless and alone on the New York City street. 


	6. Briala on Pain Meds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memory loss is never good, especially when you're the empress' lover

“Your majesty,” Jenara said with a low bow, as she entered Empress Celene’s private study.

Celene stopped writing and stood, hands smoothing out her gown to hide her nerves. “Have you found her?”

“Yes. The meeting she was spying on got out of hand. She took an arrow to the side, but the healers have tended to her, and she will be fine.”

In the presence of her most trusted friend, Celene allowed herself a sigh of relief. Briala had been missing for a night, ever since she left to go spy on the shady dealings of Duke Marches, a known supporter of anyone against Celene. When she had not returned, Celene sent spies all throughout Val Royeaux in a desperate search of her. She hadn’t slept since, and the aching in her chest finally subsided at Jenara’s words.

“I took the liberty of having her moved to your chambers through the passageway,” Jenara said gently. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I prefer that. Thank you, Jenara. If you will excuse me, I must see to her.”

“Of course, but…majesty?”

Celene stopped and turned to the elf. Jenara’s ear twitched before she spoke again. “She has ingested copious amounts of herbs and poultices for the pain. She may not be in her right state of mind for a few hours, and may in fact have temporary memory loss. Just…as a warning.”

“I understand,” Celene said with a nod before turning and making her way out of the room. She walked as quickly as the Game would allow, and ordered her guards outside of her chambers not to disturb her unless under the most dire of circumstances. Then she stepped inside.

Briala rested on her back in Celene’s bed, eyes closed. She’d been bathed, her hair brushed, and looked slightly paler than Celene would have liked. But her breathing was even and calm and when Celene reached out to touch her hand, she was relieved to find it warm. On Celene’s nightstand sat a few poultices, some herbs for tea, and a list of how to use them, written in Jenara’s hand. There was also a small plate of fried crackers, likely to settle Briala’s stomach once she woke.

Celene sat on the edge of the bed and pushed some of Briala’s hair out of her face. The elf’s eyes fluttered open, and Celene watched as they blinked rapidly. Briala’s face contorted into a confused frown and she sat up, wincing. Celene touched her shoulder, in an attempt to urge her to rest, and watched those deep eyes snap to her. Briala looked her up and down slowly, head lolling as if she couldn’t quite focus.

“Who…are you?” she said slowly, her voice gravelly from lack of use.

“I’m Celene. You’ve been injured, and you need to rest,” the empress said softly.

“Celene. Celeeeeene. Suuuuuuhhhhh-leeeene,” Briala answered, narrowing her eyes. “Pretty.”

“Thank you.”

“Who am I?”

“Briala.”

Briala chuckled and nodded, even though it was clear she had no memory of her name. “That’s prettier.”

“Yes, it is,” Celene said with a smile. “You should eat something.” Celene reached over and grabbed a cracker, extending it to the elf.

Briala eyed it warily, then took it and examined it. She sniffed it, then took a bite and let it simply sit in her mouth as she moved her tongue around. Celene resisted the urge to laugh and reached down to pat Briala’s free hand with her own. Briala looked down at the touch and hummed, then looked back up to Celene. She tilted her head to the side and smiled lazily.

“You’re beautiful,” she said with a nod. “So…so beautiful.”

Celene was not used to such compliments, even from a lucid Briala, and she felt herself blushing in spite of herself. Though she knew Briala loved her and thought many a wonderful things about her, the elf rarely said it, choosing instead to show how she felt. “Thank you,” was all she could manage without laughing.

“I mean…are you my healer?”

“No I’m your…” Celene looked around the room for a moment, “I’m your lover.”

Briala’s eyes widened and she sat up a little in the bed. “Maker’s breath, you’re joking,” she slurred. “You’re _my_ lover? What god smiled down upon me for this?”

Celene could not contain her soft laugh as Briala continued to ramble on with bits of cracker falling from her lips. “Am I pretty? Surely I’m not pretty enough for you. You deserve…you deserve Andraste.”

“You’re far prettier than I am. Eat your cracker,” Celene soothed.

Briala took another bite and held it on her tongue again as she eyed Celene’s extravagant gown. “What are you? Some kinda…performer?”

“In a way. I’m—

“And this is a nice room. So…big. Very big. Is this my room?”

“Well—

“It looks fit for a…” Briala stopped and gasped so loudly she inhaled her cracker. After coughing for a few minutes she nodded and looked up at Celene. “I am the empress.”

Celene smiled and reached out to touch Briala’s cheek. “Close, my love. _I_ am the empress.”

Briala lifted her hand at put it against Celene’s. “ _My lover is the empress?_! It’s not fair for you to be so beautiful and the empress. And you chose me?”

“No, you chose me.”

“I _chose_ you? Maker’s breath. I…I am the Emperor. It’s the only reason.”

Briala made to rise and Celene gently pushed on her shoulders. “You’re injured, Bria. You must stay in bed.”

“Bria? You call me Bria?” The elf smiled, touched by the nickname. “What do I call you?”

“Celene.”

Briala frowned, her ears falling just slightly. “I don’t have a nickname for you?”

Celene laughed. “Not really.”

“I must remedy that. You are…so pretty, no—think, Bria. You are…pretty and pale and…Snow. You are Snow and that is your nickname?”

“Okay, Bria, whatever you say.”

“Thank you, Snow. And when we’re in private, like we are now, you are hereby known as Her Imperial Sexiness.”

Celene laughed again, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Briala nodded sagely and finished her cracker. Then she took advantage of Celene’s distraction and hopped out of bed, ripping her nightgown off over her head and leaving her standing naked in the center of Celene’s room.

“Fetch my servants, Her Imperial Sexiness. I wish to be…decadent. Like you.” She turned and eyed Celene slowly, her eyes roving up and down her gown. “Then again, maybe I wish to strip you of your decadence. Do I do that? Strip your clothes from you? Because I want to. Really, really badly. Have we kissed? Is it good? I want it to be good.”

Celene patted the bed gently. “Come and lay down and I’ll let you see if kissing me is good, hmm?”

Briala made a rather shocked face and wobbled over to the bed. She climbed inside and accepted another cracker from Celene. Once she was satisfied the empress leaned over her and kissed her gently. Briala hummed as she pulled away and sighed. Then she opened her eyes and studied Celene’s face again.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” she mumbled. “I’m so lucky to have you. Do I tell you those things?”

Celene smiled and gently pushed the cracker to Briala’s mouth. “In your own way, you tell me all the time. Now get some rest, Bria. You’ll likely forget all about this in the morning.”

“I know I don’t know much right now. But I’m pretty confident that I love you. I…feel it when I look at you.”

“I think you do. And I love you as well.”

“ _Wow._ ”

“Now go to sleep.”

“Yes, your Imperial Sexiness.”

* * *

 

Celene had been awake long before Briala stirred, as was always the case. What was not always the case, was the fresh stitches on Briala’s side. The empress peeked at them a few times in between brushing Briala’s hair from her eyes and making sure she didn’t run a fever. Last night had been interesting, to say the least. Delirious from all the poultices, Briala had temporary memory loss and spent the night trying to get Celene to lay with her.

Although flattered by Briala’s endless praise and awe, the most Celene would allow was for Briala to sleep next to her, kiss her, and call her ‘Her Imperial Sexiness.’ It seemed to satisfy the elf until she fell asleep with a cracker hanging from her lips. Now, with dawn fast approaching, Celene considered on whether or not to wake her, and if she did, if Briala would have her memory intact. As Celene turned to read Jenara’s medicinal notes, Briala stirred.

With a quiet groan, Briala brought her hands to her eyes and rubbed gently. Celene watched as her dark eyes opened, scanned the room, and fell upon her. Briala studied her for a moment as she came awake, and Celene felt a sliver of fear rush down her spine at the thought of Briala never regaining her memory.

“Celene?” Briala asked quietly. She sat up and hissed, lowering the covers to examine the stitches at her side. “Oh…the arrow. I remember that.”

“You do?” Celene asked. “You were…rather incognizant last night.”

Briala frowned, absently reaching for Celene’s hand as she did so. Celene was used to affection expressed physically from the elf, and smiled as she felt her thumb run over her knuckles. “You’re right. I don’t remember what happened after the arrow.” Dark eyes searched deeply into Celene’s. “Did something happen?”

Celene smiled and shook her head. “Other than you getting crumbs in my bed, no.”

A pale hand reached out to Briala’s side, where it gently dabbed a salve onto her wounds. It hurt, but Briala had been through worse, and she sat with a straight face as Celene tended to her. Wiping her hands on a towel, Celene then extended to her a poultice. Briala put the potion to her mouth, and jumped slightly as Celene leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. It was not unwelcome, but it was surprising, and Briala raised her eyebrow at the empress as she pulled away.

“What?” Celene asked.

“Nothing. Just…affectionate this morning.”

Celene scoffed and playfully pushed Briala’s head to the side. “You cannot blame me. I thought I lost you.”

Celene was a master at the Game. Unfortunately for her, Briala was, too. “Yes, but that’s not the reason,” she said slowly as she eyed the empress.

Celene sighed impatiently and tipped the poultice to Briala’s lips. She would never for a second wish memory loss on Briala, but a part of her had hoped the open affection would remain, or at least, not be so suspicious when she returned it. Still, she loved the way Briala rolled her eyes, and the slight upturn to her lips. And she knew from the way the elf still gently held her hand that the love was there, even if it was not always expressed.

Having settled Briala, Celene turned and made her way to the table where her enchanted teapot sat. Her head ached slightly, as it did every morning, and she was so concerned with pouring the tea that she did not hear Briala slip out of bed and sneak towards her. In fact, it wasn’t until arms wrapped around her waist that Celene stopped pouring. She felt Briala’s cheek against her shoulder, and her arms tightened around Celene as she set down the teapot. The empress rubbed at Briala’s arms as she straightened and tried to peer over her shoulder at the elf.

“Affectionate this morning,” she teased quietly.

“I love you,” Briala answered, turning Celene in her arms to face her. She cupped Celene’s cheeks and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “You beautiful, amazing woman,” she said as she pulled away.

“Her Imperial Sexiness,” she finished with a laugh, watching Celene’s confused expression lift.

“You remember,” the empress murmured, a blush coloring her cheeks.

“Unfortunately,” Briala answered. “I was quite an ass. But you were very sweet to me. And I thank you.”

“No,” Celene answered, pulling Briala back to her. “Thank you.”


	7. Briala Teases Celene Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lennyface jpg

Celene should have known she was in for a rough day from the moment Briala woke that morning. The empress felt the elf stir gently against her chest. There was a sigh, a flutter of eyelids, and a creeping hand. Celene watched Briala’s freckled hand lift and find her cheek while the elf continued to wake up. It stroked her face gently, and Celene smiled when soft fingertips ran across her bottom lip. She kissed Briala’s thumb and listened to her lover’s content hum.

Large liquid eyes finally opened to the morning, and Celene peered down at the beautiful face that loved to rest on her chest. “It would seem you slept well,” she murmured as her eyes darted to the window where the sun had already risen.

“Too well,” Briala responded as she stretched against Celene.

The empress frowned in sympathy and ran a hand down Briala’s taut back. “Are you somnolent, my love?” It was to the empress’ misfortune that her mind went to fixing a cup of tea for Briala instead of paying attention to the leg that was wrapping itself across her waist.

Briala scoffed. “It is cruel to use such academic language against someone who’s just woken up, you know?”

Before Celene could respond, Briala rolled on top of her. Noses touching, Celene could just barely decipher the muddied image of Briala smiling cruelly.

“But, no, for your information, I’m not  _somnolent_.”

Briala tilted her head and ran her tongue across Celene’s lips, eliciting a surprised gasp from the empress. Briala’s hands found Celene’s and she entwined their fingers, bringing Celene’s hands over her head. She teased Celene, keeping her mouth just out of reach as the empress tried to seek her out, and chuckled darkly.

“But…I may be feeling…something else.”

She rocked her hips gently against Celene’s waist, pleased when Celene began to rock with her in eager anticipation. Briala leaned down and turned Celene’s face to the side, pressing soft kisses up her jaw and to her neck.

“Hmm,” she hummed in Celene’s ear, feeling the empress shudder beneath her. “What is a large, Celene-worthy word for this feeling?”

“Bria,” Celene breathed. “It’s too late. We can’t–

"Titillated?” Briala offered with an innocent raise of her eyebrows. She frowned shortly after and with a soft sigh, thrust herself roughly against Celene a few times. “No…not powerful enough, I think.”

Celene squeezed her hands, tried to free herself, but Briala had the advantage of being on top, and the empress was powerless beneath her. Her body warmed with anticipation, heart beating faster as she watched her lover on top of her, body moving gracefully and rhythmically against her own. She wanted her. Celene always wanted her. But her duties as empress were to begin very shortly. And she knew that Briala knew this. And that knowledge only made it worse, caused the empress’ lips to part in a soft, supplicating moan.

“Ahh…concupiscent,” Briala said with a smile, and leaned down to capture Celene’s lips. She kissed her deeply, slowly, and pulled away with Celene’s bottom lip between her teeth. While she still had possession of it, Briala shook her head, giving Celene’s lip a gentle bite before releasing it. “No…too formal. Doesn’t quite get across the,” she paused to breathe against Celene’s mouth, “carnality, does it?”

Celene let out a labored breath, legs shifting beneath the elf in a feeble attempt to get more out of her. But Briala was patient. She let go of Celene’s fingers and held her by the wrists instead with one hand. Using her free hand, she parted the collar of Celene’s nightgown and traced her fingertips over the empress’ chest. “How does one accurately describe the shudder of your skin, Celene? The hot, heavy breaths,” she kissed her, tongue snaking into Celene’s mouth before pulling away, “your wet mouth, your moans. The subtle gyrations of your body beneath me.”

Briala leaned in to Celene’s ear, kissed it gently felt Celene twitch at the sensitivity. Briala smiled and lowered her voice to make Celene tremble as she spoke in her ear. “Is there a word, your majesty, fitting of an empress, to accurately describe how I feel, how you feel, and all the things I want to do you? All the things I’m going to do to you?”

 _“Fuck,”_  Celene breathed out slowly, head thrown back as her body responded to Briala’s words.

Briala chuckled darkly and, for just a moment, sucked on a spot on Celene’s neck. Celene let out a soft groan, turning her head to give Briala more room, and felt those lips disappear.

“Such crudeness from an empress. But I suppose you’re right. Fuck is exactly what I want to do to you.”

“Please,” Celene whimpered, and Briala conceded enough to kiss her again. When she pulled away this time, however, her entire body went with her.

Celene felt the loss immediately and sat up in bed to watch as Briala rounded the bed towards the passageway, adjusting her nightgown as she went.

“Unfortunately, you were right, your majesty. It’s far too late, and we can’t.” Briala pulled the mirror aside and turned to smile at Celene’s reddened and pouting face. “You’re in for a long day today,” she teased before sliding the mirror shut.

Celene swallowed, licked her lips, and ran a hand through her hair to try and regain some control over herself. They’d played this game many times before. It was a game Briala had yet to lose.


	8. Briala Teases Celene Part 2

Concluding her meeting with the Antivan Ambassador, Celene finally decided to eat, taking brunch in one of the small dining areas in the palace. Her enchanted teapot sat next to her, filled and steaming, and she picked idly at her poached eggs, too concerned with reviewing her meeting than eating. Two servants stood by the wall with their heads down, waiting to serve Celene anything she asked.

The door to the dining room opened and Celene set down her fork as Briala walked into the room. She kept her head low as a servant should and bowed before Celene. For appearances, she eyed the servants warily, and Celene beckoned her near to whisper in her ear. Briala obliged, keeping as respectful a distance as possible as she neared Celene.

“Send them away?” she whispered into the empress’ ear.

Celene had a mind to deny Briala. It would make her day easier. She’d finally gotten over her morning…frustration and was of a calm mind to continue her duties. But she made the mistake of looking into Briala’s eyes, and with a wave of her hand dismissed the other servants. Once alone, Briala smiled and reached onto Celene’s plate, taking a bite of her untouched bread and jam. Celene watched as Briala licked excess jam from her lips and smiled down at her.

“Did you have a good morning, majesty?” she asked, studying the bread in her hand.

“Rather disappointing, actually,” Celene said, pulling the bread from Briala’s hand and taking her own bite.

Briala clicked her tongue in disapproval and Celene shrugged disinterestedly, looking back down at her plate as she took another bite. Briala’s hand came around her chin and jerked her head back up. Celene barely had time to react before Briala kissed her fiercely, then pushed her face away.

“I like that jam,” Briala said simply as she licked the corner of her lip. “I like that jam a lot.”

Celene felt her face reddening and she clenched her jaw, willing herself to keep her focus. She felt Briala’s foot toying with the hem of her gown and sighed, looking up to give her a warning glare. Briala smiled in return and hopped onto the table, lifting Celene’s gown slightly with her new height.

“Briala, get off the table,” Celene said slowly.

The elf frowned, and Celene felt her bare foot gently tracing up her stocking. “What’s the matter, Celene?”

“You know perfectly well—

Celene cut herself off with a gasp as Briala’s foot trailed along her inner thigh. Her touch was light and sent a pleasurable tingle down her spine and between her legs. Briala bit her bottom lip and watched as Celene squirmed in her chair, reaching down to still Briala’s foot. Swiping her finger along the coated bread, Briala leaned forward and brought her finger to Celene’s lips. The empress took her finger between her lips and gently sucked the jam off. Briala smiled and removed her finger, flicking Celene’s bottom lip as she did. Then she leaned in and kissed Celene again, forcing her tongue into her mouth. Celene barely had time to moan into her mouth before Briala pulled away and wiped Celene’s lips with her fingers.

“I like that jam better when it’s in your mouth,” she murmured as she hopped off the table. Smiling, Briala picked up the jar of jam and tossed it between her hands. “Maybe I’ll bring it with me tonight.”

With that, Briala hid the jar behind her back, bowed, and left the dining room. 


	9. Briala Teases Celene Part 3

“The Antivan Ambassador wishes to have a quick word with you before dinner, majesty,” Briala said in the empress’ ear as they strolled together down a grand hall in the Imperial Palace.

“How quick?” Celene asked, eyeing the setting sun out of the several windows that lined the wall. Soon after dinner, she planned to fake a headache and retire to her chambers for the night, where Briala would hopefully be waiting, if she knew what was good for her.

“He promised it would be brief, majesty,” the elf answered coolly, bowing her head to indicate which door the ambassador was waiting in. She opened the door for Celene and the empress strode through proudly, expecting to see the ambassador.

What she saw instead, was an empty room, and in the time it took for Briala to shut and lock the door behind her, she knew she’d been had. Celene sighed and shook her head. “Bria, haven’t you had enough fun with me today?” she asked as she turned to face the elf.

Briala dipped her head, feigning disappointment, and Celene hated that it worked. “You didn’t have fun as well, Celene?”

“What I _had_ was frustration all day because of you.”

Briala clicked her tongue in a motherly manner and sauntered towards Celene. The predatory look in her eyes caused Celene to take a step back, and then another, until she bumped up against the chaise behind her. Briala smiled slowly and reached up, plucking Celene’s mask from her face. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and Celene shook her head once more. But it was futile as Briala pressed up against her, tilting her head to meet Celene’s eyes.

“Frustration, hmm?” she asked as her hands ran up and down Celene’s sides. “We must…” her hand traveled across Celene’s exposed chest, “remedy that.”

Celene swallowed as Briala’s warm hand skimmed over the tops of her breasts, followed by her lips. “Bria, please,” she tried once more only to let out a groan when the elf moved up to her neck.

“Please what, Celene?” she murmured against the pale skin before biting gently.

“Stop…teasing,” Celene finally managed after a moment between soft moans.

“As you wish, your majesty,” Briala answered, grabbing Celene by the hips and pushing her down onto the chaise.

Briala crawled over the empress, bringing her dress up with her. There was a shuffling of fabric, and Briala chuckled as her hands fumbled with the material. “You and your dresses, Celene,” she muttered.

Celene couldn’t find it within herself to respond. She’d been craving this all day and felt ready to burst. Briala finally leaned over her, and Celene felt her thigh press between her legs. The empress began to rock automatically against the touch, breathing heavy as she pulled Briala down to kiss her.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Briala chided, keeping her lips just out of Celene’s reach. “Can’t ruin your face paint.”

A few witty responses, and a few crude responses formulated in Celene’s mind, but she was already breathless from Briala’s touch, and the corset was unforgiving. So merely gripped the back of Briala’s neck to keep her in place. Briala smirked and ran her hand over the tops of Celene’s breasts again, watching as Celene sought her release against her. Leaning in so closely that Celene could feel her breath on her lips, Briala spoke in a low, husky tone. “I love watching you like this. It’s why I work you up so. To see you so,” she took a breath and ran her fingers across Celene’s lips, “desperate.”

Celene could only nod and look at Briala with pleading eyes. What she needed could not be satisfied with Briala’s thigh alone, and the elf knew that, smiling as she put her finger in Celene’s mouth.

“Wet this for me?” she asked, watching as Celene complied, sucking on her finger and swirling her tongue around it. With a soft pop, Briala pulled her finger from Celene and chuckled again. “Not that there’s not wetness to be found elsewhere. But I do so love to see that tongue of yours at work.”

Celene felt fingers on her thigh, trailing slowly upward. She threw her head back and let out a frustrated whimper, managing a soft, “Please.”

The hand stilled and Celene groaned again. “Please what, Celene?”

“Please touch me.”

The fingers moved again. Celene felt them dance over the small patch of hair between her legs and forced herself away from Briala’s thigh to allow Briala space. Briala chuckled again and in a moment she was over Celene, still smiling.

“Oh, my love, did you think I was done teasing you?”

Celene’s eyes widened. She tried to push back against Briala’s leg, but the elf was already gone. “No,” she half-cried, sitting up and watching as Briala straightened her dress.

The elf smirked and reached down to pick up Celene’s mask. “Oh, by the way,” she said as she studied the intricate engravings on the mask. “I won’t be in tonight. Work, you know?”

She tossed the mask to Celene and resisted the urge to laugh at the anger in her face. “You’re joking,” Celene said.

“Afraid not. Burdens of duty. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She turned towards the door and stopped when she heard Celene’s voice. “I can take care of this myself, you know?”

“Of course you can,” Briala said as she unlocked the door. She turned back and winked at Celene. “But we both know it won’t satisfy you like I can.”

With that, Briala left, closing the door behind her and leaving the empress to reclaim her breath, as well as her jaw from the floor. 


	10. Briala Teases Celene Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The climactic conclusion (I am so funny)

Briala, as a matter of fact, did not have work that evening. She wished she did, however, as it was all too tempting to crawl back into Celene’s bedroom and finally claim that which she had been working so hard on all day. Celene would no doubt be angry, frustrated, and…a little bit wild. Just as Briala intended. She waited until it was late in the evening, late enough for even the empress herself to finally retire to bed, and made her way through passageway. It was all planned out. She would crawl into bed, hush Celene’s tired ranting and raving with a few well-placed kisses, and gladly accept whatever ‘punishment’ the empress deemed necessary.

As she neared the mirror that served as the door to Celene’s bedroom, Briala noticed something peculiar. The border of light surrounding the mirror from Celene’s room was quite bright, as if Celene was still awake. Perhaps she’d worked her up more than she thought. Briala licked her lips, her body tingling in anticipation for when Celene would march up to the mirror and wrap her in her arms, refusing to let go until the morning.

The mirror slid open soundlessly, as it always did. Briala expected Celene to be sitting on the edge of the bed, fisting the sheets and leaning forward with a predatory look in her eye, not unlike a lioness, which was her affectionate nickname from her subjects. Briala particularly loved it when the lioness growled. But Celene was not on the bed, nor was she in the immediate vicinity. Briala frowned and stepped inside, listening for any signs of warning. She found Celene soon after closing the mirror behind her. The empress was reclined on her chaise reading a book in her violet silk robe, which had fallen off her shoulders. If she noticed Briala she made no showing of it, and licked her lips as she turned another page. Briala smirked to herself and prepared to make herself known with a teasing line when she stepped nearer and realized what else the empress was wearing.

She’d seen Celene in many a negligee, and subsequently ripped Celene out of many a negligee, but she had never seen this particular negligee. It was gold beneath her robe, silken straps shimmering in the candlelight all the way down to her breasts before the material turned sheer. Briala could just almost make out Celene’s stomach beneath the fine fabric, and felt her mouth go dry as Celene adjusted, revealing the full long length of her pale thigh. 

Celene looked up at Briala’s sudden intake of breath and smiled kindly at the elf. “Bria, I thought you were working tonight?” she asked as she returned to her book.

“I…finished early,” Briala answered as she sat on the edge of the chaise.

Celene pulled her leg in, then gave a placating chuckle as Briala’s hand ran up her thigh. “I’m reading, Bria,” she chastised, flicking Briala’s hand off and pulling her robe back over her leg.

The elf frowned. She expected Celene to throw herself at her, not be more interested in a book than in her touch. Celene leaned forward slightly, the golden silk over her shoulder falling and revealing more of her lovely, snow fallen skin. The empress’ hair was still up in a loose bun, and she idly pushed wayward strands back behind her ear. She was the most beautiful woman Briala had ever seen, and all the teasing barbs Briala had developed for this evening of riling Celene up disappeared inside the folds of colored silk.

Briala leaned over Celene’s legs and pressed her lips to her bare shoulder. She lingered for only a moment before she heard Celene sigh. The empress stood, closing her book with an irritated slap and casting it onto the table. “I guess I’m not reading,” she said lightly as she made her way towards the washbasin on the other side of the room.

Bare toes smacked against the marble floor as Briala followed. She could tell that Celene was irritated, but couldn’t quite bring herself to focus on it. Not when Celene was in the process of peeling off her robe.

The negligee was shorter than she’d thought. And it was the shortest she’d ever seen. Even Celene’s most scandalous negligees went to her knees. This strip of material barely covered her backside. In fact, Briala noticed most eagerly, it was too short to adequately cover the empress as she bent over to wash her face.

“I like what you’re wearing,” Briala said softly as she came behind Celene.

“Thank you,” Celene smiled politely. “It’s new.”

“It’s…shorter than most of the others.”

“Yes, I had it hemmed for the summer. You know how dreadfully I hot I get in the summer.”

“I do,” Briala said, skimming her fingertips up the sides of Celene’s thighs. “So flushed,” she kissed her shoulder blade, “and sweaty.”

“Thank you for that assessment, Bria. Certainly makes me feel attractive.”

Briala felt Celene leave her touch, drifting away as she made her way towards the bed. Rather than pulling the sheets back and climbing underneath, Celene lounged on top, resting against the headboard. “I do like this material though,” she said, running her hand down the strap of her shoulder.

Briala’s eyes widened as Celene’s hand came over her breast and moved lower to the sheer material before scratching gently at her own thighs.

“Celene,” Briala rasped as she stepped near the bed. “Please, let me….”

She ghosted over Celene’s knee, fingers crawling upward as she leaned over her. She wanted Celene all day; since she first opened her eyes and heard that voice filled with love calling out to her. This was not how she had anticipated this evening to go—she’d rather hoped Celene would be on top of _her_ —but that desire had diminished the moment she laid eyes on that negligee with Celene’s generous legs underneath, replaced by a stronger desire to touch her empress.

Celene watched Briala as she would a diplomat, with a stoic, calculating glance, as she neared. She hadn’t stopped Briala’s hand from its venture up her leg, and Briala felt goose bumps rising beneath her touch. But when she was a breath away from Celene, the empress placed a single finger to Briala’s lips, stilling her.

“What are you doing?” Celene breathed, looking more like a stern nanny than a lover.

“ _Trying_ to kiss you,” Briala answered as her hand gripped Celene’s hip.

“You have kissed me plenty today. And I tire of your games.”

“I’m not playing games, Celene. Not anymore.”

Celene sat up and tucked her knees beneath her, bringing them eye level. “I can see the appeal,” she said slowly as she traced Briala’s bottom lip. “The look in your eyes is so very hungry…for me. And I know that you like seeing me flushed and panting beneath you, begging you to give me everything.”

“Yes,” Briala exhaled, hands traveling beneath Celene’s negligee and sliding up her sides.

“And isn’t nice, Bria, to give someone what they want? Like I’m doing now, for instance.” Celene looked down to Briala’s hands, which continued roaming.

“Yes.”

Celene then grabbed Briala’s hands and pulled them from beneath the negligee, holding them by the wrists. Briala resisted for just a moment before she felt Celene guiding her hands over her breasts. It was clear from Celene’s hold that she could not take her own initiative, and allowed Celene to barely graze her hands over her body.

“If only you’d been kinder today, love. Perhaps then I’d allow you more of me.”

Celene dropped Briala’s hands and swatted them away when the elf lifted them again.

“Celene, please—

“Please did not work for you, Bria. Why should it work for me?”

“I…” Briala reached out once more and was swatted away. “I’m sorry. For teasing you. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Celene raised a sculpted eyebrow and reached out to trace Briala’s cheek, well aware that her straps had fallen from both shoulders. “You have a lot to make up for.”

Briala nodded.

“It may take all night.”

Briala swallowed.

“And I can be very demanding.”

“I can be obedient.”

Celene licked her lips, and gave Briala a slow, searching kiss. “Do you promise?” she asked as she pulled away.

“Yes, your majesty.”

Celene smiled and kissed Briala again, allowing her hands to return.


	11. Permanent Memory Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahead. When Briala truly loses her memory, and what Celene must do for the sake of the empire, no matter how much it hurts.

Celene did not care that she could be seen pacing outside of the door. She walked furiously back and forth, wringing her hands behind her back as she replayed the day’s events. Her spies were still working on it, but somehow someone had infiltrated her palace. They’d spiked her tea, and playfully, Briala had swiped her cup and drank its contents. Celene shut her eyes, remembering the way Briala paled, the cup falling and shattering onto the ground as Briala’s eyes glazed over. Celene was certain she would never forget the way Briala looked up at her and did not recognize what she saw.

They weren’t certain what it was; drugs, magic, or a combination of both. But Briala’s memory was gone, obliterated to the point of not even recalling her own name. She’d screamed at Celene, screamed at everything. Tore herself from the empress’ arms, tried to hit her in fear, and had to be restrained by Celene’s champion. Celene could only look on in horror as Adele dragged her out of the room, kicking and fighting and crying out in fear.

She’d sent for the best healers and mages in Orlais, sent letters to the Inquisition asking about Morrigan’s whereabouts, and was currently considering a letter to the Tevinter Imperium when the door to the room opened. Celene stopped pacing and swallowed as the healers exited the room, followed finally by Lady Vivienne, Celene’s prior arcane advisor and a marvelous healer in her own right. Vivienne bowed, and when Celene saw the look of pity in the mage’s eyes, she fought to keep her expression under control.

“We’ve never seen it before, your majesty,” she said slowly. “None of our remedies have helped. It doesn’t help that she’s frightened and fights us.”

“Can you blame her?” Celene snapped, flinging her hand towards the door. “We’re keeping her locked up like feral mabari.”

“As you commanded, your majesty,” Vivienne replied, and Celene felt her heart sink into her chest. Whether Vivienne noticed the empress’ change in demeanor or not, her next words were softer. “I will inquire about this to the Circle towers. Leliana has…unlikely sources, as well as the location of Magister Pavus, should you wish to—

“I do. Anything, Vivienne. Leave no stone unturned. She holds secrets of the empire that we cannot afford to risk.”

Vivienne bowed once more. “Of course, your majesty.” And with that left the empress’ company.

Celene looked to her champion, personally assigned to guard Briala’s door, because she simply didn’t trust anyone else, and watched her dip her head in sympathy. In the silence of the hall, crying could be heard from inside of the room, and Celene felt tears in the corners of her eyes. She shared a look with Adele, who bowed her head, and stepped inside of the room.

It was a very nice room, fit for any a visiting noble. Light filtered in from the large windows and bathed the room in a calming glow. Briala was on the bed, sheets tangled around her legs as she curled into a ball and sniffled softly. Celene looked away for a moment and tried not to think about how disgusted Briala would be with herself if she saw her like this. That which had given her strength had left her. Her mother’s guidance, her parents’ deaths, Felassan, Celene, all of it gone. This was not the Briala she knew and loved. This was a blank slate, and Celene felt her heart shattering inside of her.

Briala looked up as Celene stepped nearer and cowered to the back of the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. “Please,” she pleaded, shaking her head. “No more magic.”

“No more magic,” Celene agreed gently, “for now.”

“I don’t understand,” Briala said, looking down at her hands. “I don’t…remember. I…who am I?”

Celene gestured, a polite request to sit on the edge of the bed, and Briala nodded. “Your name is Briala,” she said as she sat down. “You were—are the Marquise of the Dales. You were poisoned somehow, and have lost your memories.”

Briala frowned and looked up into Celene’s eyes. Celene could see the attraction to her in them, but nothing deeper, and looked down to smooth out her gown.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Briala’s voice was barely a whimper.

Celene sighed and removed her mask. She hated the way Briala tilted her head at the sight, the way her eyes studied her features. She imagined all of the possibilities running through Briala’s mind. Could she love this woman, were they compatible, would it last? Briala knew all those answers just this morning, when she’d kissed Celene before stealing her morning tea. The empress rubbed at her eyes to mask the tears that welled in them. “I know that you will not understand this, but you must remain within the palace. You hold secrets, Briala, that are detrimental to the empire should they ever be released. As the empress, I cannot allow you to go free on the off chance your memory returns or someone exploits you.”

“You can’t do that,” Briala whined, and Celene hated the sound of it. The Briala that she knew did not whine, she fought.

“I can,” Celene said, raising her chin. “And I’m afraid I will.”

For a moment, Celene saw a flicker of fire in Briala’s eyes. Then the elf lashed out, slapping Celene across the face. The empress reacted quickly, grabbing both of Briala’s wrists and pinning them to the bed on either side of her head. Celene could feel her cheek burning, felt tears stinging her eyes. Briala never laid a hand on her in such a manner. And she hated that the woman beneath her, the woman she’d loved for over twenty years, was no longer. It was the same beautiful face as always, but the person behind it was gone.

“You can’t do this!” Briala repeated, the fight in her failing as Celene kept her pinned to the bed. “Someone out there must care about me! They’ll know I’m missing! They’ll—

Briala stopped as Celene unwillingly let out a choked sob. She ducked her head to her chest, trying to keep it from the elf’s view, but Briala saw it anyway. Recognized the tears in her eyes and the redness in her cheeks that did not come from her assault. Celene felt Briala’s hands relax against the bed, and in the stillness of the room, her small voice whispered out, “Someone…does care for me, right? Family, friends…a lover?”

Celene sniffed once, and lifted her head, exhaling as she pushed her tears back and let go of Briala’s hands to wipe her eyes. She was the one who cared about her, who loved her, who wished more than anything that she could comfort Briala like she wished. But Celene couldn’t bring herself to do it. Could bring herself to allow Briala to fall in love with the woman who murdered her parents all over again. It wasn’t fair to her. Ever since that night in the reading room, Celene wished she could take it all back just to spare Briala the pain. And now, in a way, she could. Even as her chest ached with effort to keep herself composed.

“I’m sorry, Briala. There is no one, save for your advisors at the Dales, who have been notified. You will be well taken care of and—

Briala screamed and lunged at Celene again. Caught off guard, Celene barely deflected Briala’s second attempt at a slap. The elf grabbed onto her arms and tried to push her away. Celene shouted for Adele as Briala grabbed at her hair and wrenched the immaculate style free, sending a searing pain down her scalp. Adele appeared immediately by Celene’s side and tore Briala’s arms from the empress. She crossed them over Briala’s chest and pinned her to the bed, one knee on her waist to control her legs. Celene, teary eyed and shaken, watched the fear in Briala’s eyes as she looked up at the empress’ muscular champion.

“Adele…be gentle, please,” she murmured, ignoring the way Briala’s eyes darted curiously to her.

“Only as much force as necessary, your majesty,” Adele confirmed, shooting a warning glare at Briala. “You are not to touch the empress in such a manner again,” she ordered the elf. “Memory loss or no, if you attack her you are a threat to the empire and I will kill you where you cower. Do you understand me?”

Briala nodded and Celene turned away to hide the pain in her expression at the sight. She fiddled with her hair in an attempt to make it presentable as Adele insured that Briala was calm. Then she stood and looked down at the elf. “We’re trying everything we can to return your memory to you, Briala. Of that I promise you.”

“I want nothing from you,” Briala snarled so fiercely that Adele increased the pressure on her chest just a bit.

Celene blinked, then nodded, attempting to swallow the knot at the back of her throat. It was for the best this way. Let Briala hate her. She had so many times before, and this time, she can keep it forever. As long as it kept her safe from Celene. She spared one last glance at Briala, and saw nothing. Then she turned and made her way out of the room as she lost her love for the third and final time. 


	12. Almost Caught in the Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you telling me in all those years of rule no one ever barged into the empress' bedchamber with important news?

" _Oh, yes_ , Bria," Celene moaned quietly, throwing her head back against the pillows. She was close, so very close, and Briala's wicked tongue knew her all too well. Briala's hands pushed up underneath her nightgown, toying with her breasts as she kept pace with Celene's fervently rocking hips.

Celene clutched at her lover's head, on the edge of release, and moaned loudly between her panting. Any moment now and--

"Majesty!"

Celene and Briala both shot up at the pounding on her chamber doors. Briala wiped her mouth and moved to leave the bed when they heard the door open. Celene squeaked, pushing Briala back down between her legs and throwing her lavish, feather stuffed comforter over top of her. The empress bent her knees while Briala tucked hers as tightly as she could to her chest, the angle concealing her from view. Celene barely remembered to lower her nightgown over her breasts when the captain of her guard came in, followed by a handful of chevaliers.

"Majesty, you are awake?" He asked, bowing his head low.

"How could I not be?" Celene snapped. "What is the meaning of this?"

"An intruder on the grounds, your majesty. An assassin, we believe. We lost him inside the palace, and are under orders to remain here with you until he's apprehended."

"And just how long will that be?" Celene asked, feeling her arousal dwindling. It didn't help that she could feel Briala's hot breath against her inner thigh. So close and yet unable to finish what she started.

The captain shrugged and Celene sighed.

"Perhaps you should lay down, majesty? Try to sleep?"

Briala tensed slightly between her legs and Celene shook her head. "I will not."

"Would you feel more comfortable if you dressed? You look...rather flushed."

"I would feel more comfortable if you stopped speaking, Captain," Celene snapped, well aware of the flush on her cheek and chest. The captain nodded and eyed her warily before examining the room with the rest of the guard.

The rapid exhales against her thigh told Celene that Briala was laughing, and she grimaced, squeezing her thighs against Briala's head in warning. Briala felt the pressure against her head and moved just enough to press her mouth against Celene’s thigh, where she bit down a little too roughly. Celene jumped, unable to keep the “Ahh!” from escaping her mouth. “…Choo,” she finished, faking a sneeze and glaring daggers at the soldiers who’d turned to glance at her.

Pretending to adjust under the covers, Celene reached down and tugged sharply on Briala’s hair. The elf grit her teeth as her head throbbed in pain. Two could play at this game. Briala glanced up at the comforter over top of her and noticed that Celene’s knees brought it well above her head and the angle concealed her almost entirely from view. Carefully, Briala turned her head and pressed her mouth against the empress. She felt Celene jolt around her, and her thighs squeezed her head again in another warning. It hurt, slightly, but it would be well worth it in the end.

Celene adjusted, straightening up in the bed and pulling her hips away from Briala’s mouth. But it was not far enough and soon Briala returned, pressing a teasing kiss against Celene. Trying her best to look bored and irritated, Celene’s heart hammered in her chest. Briala’s touch had spurred her arousal again, and she hated that the precariousness of their situation only seemed to make her more excited.

To Celene’s credit, she did not react once Briala’s tongue started to move again. Fear played a part in that, as she gripped the sheets and nervously eyed each of the guards. They kept their backs turned, giving the empress as much privacy as they could, but the slightest sound or movement was sure to be noticed by them. Forcing herself to keep her hips still, Celene exhaled and rested her head against the headboard, relishing in the pleasure she thought she’d lost for the evening.

Briala, however, found herself frustrated. Pleasing Celene was not her intent at this moment; embarrassing her was. Smirking, Briala pushed just a bit harder, swirling her tongue in a way she knew Celene couldn’t resist.

A low groan escaped Celene’s mouth before she could stop it. The captain of the guard turned to face her, and Celene found that she could not think of an excuse. She was too delirious from the elf between her legs and the embarrassment at her current situation. All she could do was cling to the sheets and stare wide eyed at the captain. He smiled kindly and tilted his head.

“Majesty, do forgive me but…are you ill? You look quite hot and…” he drifted out of fear of insulting the empress.

“I…am feeling a bit under the weather, perhaps, yes,” Celene managed, her voice shaking as she tried to keep from moaning at Briala’s efforts. “Your men should keep their distance, captain.”

“Shall I send for a healer?”

“Maker help you if you bring _one more soul_ into this room,” Celene growled, hoping the anger in her voice was enough to excuse the single roll of her hips and her head rolling back against the headboard.

Celene heard one guard mutter to the other, “Empress fancies her privacy, doesn’t she?”

“Well, if you looked like that when you woke, you wouldn’t want anyone to see you either.”

Briala couldn’t help it. She snorted at the guard’s words. Celene tried to pass it off as a sniffle and gently dabbed at her nose as her thighs gripped mercilessly against Briala’s skull. The elf stifled her whimper and her laughter and gave Celene another tongue lashing to ease the pressure on her head. Celene’s legs jolted apart and she rolled her eyes as she felt the captain clear his voice to speak yet again.

“You must be ill,” he said kindly. “First you’re all flushed and now…well…now you seem quite, um, quite c-cold. Are you sure I can’t send for a healer?”

Celene looked at him, confused, and the captain cleared his throat, gesturing awkwardly to his chest. Celene looked down and saw that her body had responded quite fervently to Briala’s ministrations. She crossed her arms over her breasts and shot the captain with a look so offended that he quickly apologized and turned back around.

Despite her utter embarrassment at the situation, Celene couldn’t help but respond to Briala’s tongue. She kept her hips steady and took deep breaths, keeping her face as calm as possible as her body worked itself back up to where it was before the intrusion. She could do nothing for the flush on her face, nothing for her nipples except hide them beneath her arms, and nothing for the very obvious smell of sex that lingered in the room. But she could, at least, enjoy this and let it somewhat ease her suffering. She grew closer now, and swallowed nervously at the thought. She could feel it building, stronger than the first due to the interruption, and knew she wouldn’t be able to control herself. Fear gripped at her, worried that she would be caught, that Briala would be caught, and everything they’d fought to establish would crumble under their feet.

And yet, shameless as it was, neither could she bring herself to stop Briala. The loss of release had been agonizing enough, and she did not want to suffer it again. And, she supposed, if they were to be caught, at least her last moments with Briala would be spent in one of ecstasy.

Celene exhaled a steady breath and pretended to adjust underneath the covers to allow her hips to rock for just a few brief moments. She could feel the elf’s lips pulling against her in a smile and licked her lips as she eyed the room. Her heart hammered in her chest, and moans clawed at the back of her throat, but she forced them back. Her body was on fire, tingling in her fingers and toes as the pressure inside of her filled. The captain eyed her nervously again, but she could not be bothered to turn him away. Any moment now and—

“Captain!” a guard called from the hall, causing everyone in the room to turn. “We’ve seized him!”

A collective sigh of relief filled the room, but was quickly shattered by Celene flinging her hands towards the door. “Go, go, go, go, go,” she practically squealed. “And…thank you for your efforts,” she added sweetly, noting the guards confused expressions.

They filed out of the room slowly, Celene’s temper rising as she fought to keep her orgasm at bay. The captain, the last person in the room, stopped as he reached the door and gave a bow. “Majesty, I apologize for—

 _“Don’t stop_ ,” Celene groaned. Though she was speaking to Briala, it had the desired effect on the captain, who nodded and briskly exited the room.

When the door finally shut leaving them alone in the room, Celene let herself go, sinking back into the sheets and clutching at Briala’s head as she rode out her release. It was a good one, a worthy one to have gone out on, should they have been discovered, and Celene felt exhausted as she dropped her hands to her side.

“You are _evil_ ,” she said to Briala as the elf slid up beside her.

Briala’s face was flushed, sweat touching her brow from her stay beneath the hot sheets and between Celene’s hot thighs, but she managed a smile.

“I think you enjoyed it, your majesty.”

“I think you’re too arrogant for your own good.”

“Well…I did still manage to get you off while surrounded by guards. That is quite a feat, don’t you think?”

“Maker, I’ll never hear the end of this.”

Briala chuckled and threw the covers off to the end of the bed, relishing in the cool air on her heated skin. She touched Celene’s thigh and gently began to trace inwards, noting the way Celene’s eyes darkened again with lust.

“I know one way to keep from talking,” Briala teased, giving Celene a slow kiss.

“Then I suggest you use it,” Celene answered as she pushed Briala’s head back down.


	13. Briala in a Suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Admit it, you've thought about it.

“I don’t know about this, Celene,” Briala called from the dressing room for the tenth time.

Celene rolled her eyes as she leaned against the other side of the door. “You said you didn’t want to wear a dress to the gala. A suit is your only other option.”

“Or I could just not go.”

“And leave me without a date?”

“...No.”

Celene smiled and touched the door affectionately. The store was nearly empty, and the music overhead was just a little too loud for the lack of people to compensate it. But Celene could still hear the pout in Briala’s voice, and imagined her glaring into the mirror as she tried the suit on.

“Does it fit?” Celene asked after a few more minutes of silence.

“I…think so.”

“You think so or you know so?”

“I’m not used to wearing a suit, Celene. Cut me some slack.”

“Why don’t you come out here and show me?”

Briala sighed from the other side of the door. “You have to promise not to laugh.”

Celene stifled a laugh. “I promise.”

There was another sigh, and Celene stood back as she heard the door click open. Briala opened it just a hair and looked around for signs of other people. Finding none, she took a deep breath and opened it wider. “Ties are hard when you’re tying them yourself,” she offered weakly, looking down at the loose, poorly knotted tie around her neck. The suit was tailored to a woman’s form, and cut in at the sides, bringing out her slender waist. And the pants were straight leg and would look odd with typical men’s shoes. Would she wear her black heels with them or…it dawned on her that Celene had not answered.

Briala lifted her head from her tie to find Celene staring at her in awe. Her hand gripped the strap of her purse tightly, and as she met Briala’s eyes, she licked her lips and tried to quell her arousal.

“What do you think?” Celene squeaked in a voice higher than normal.

Briala’s eyebrow lifted curiously, but she shrugged and looked down at herself. “This terrible tie job isn’t helping.”

Pale hands came into view, swatting Briala’s away as they grabbed the tie. When she finished, Celene slid her fingers down the length of the black silk tie and hummed softly.

“Come and look in the mirror,” she said, fisting the end of Briala’s tie and tugging her towards the end of the dressing room where three large mirrors stood. The tie threatening to strangle her, Briala could do little but follow Celene until she stood looking at three various reflections of herself. She turned to the side and gave a contemplative hum.

“I suppose it looks good. Maybe I’m just concerned it’s too…I don’t know…butch for me. What do you think?”

Celene smiled as Briala turned to face her, and the look in her eyes did not go unnoticed by the elf. “I like it. A lot.”

Briala looked up and then understood the look Celene had in her eyes before. And suddenly the suit didn’t seem so controversial anymore. Confidence spurred, Briala turned on the ball of her foot and smirked at Celene as she tilted her head to the side.

“Oh yeah?” she asked, undoing the tie so it hung loosely around her neck. “What do you like about it?”

“I like…the jacket,” Celene said, grabbing the lapels to pull Briala closer. “The pants,” she said as she ran her hands down Briala’s thighs. “And…especially the tie,” she finished, tugging on the tie to close the distance between their mouths.  

Briala pulled away with a gasp and turned to look at them in the mirror. She looked at Celene in her arms with one hand clutching her jacket and the other gripping her tie. “I think this suit is growing on me,” she murmured, watching Celene’s smile widen.

“Let’s hope it’s not too hard to get off, then,” she said, taking the tie once more and pulling Briala into the nearest changing room. 


	14. Drunk Briala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And what she really thinks of Celene.

“Sleene…Sleene, ‘mere.”

“Bria, you’re drunk. Please lay back down.”

“No, no, but ‘mere.”

Celene sighed and sat on the edge of the bed next to Briala. Having imbibed of the many wines that were on display this evening, Briala’s cheeks had a rosy countenance to them that Celene rarely saw. Briala was nothing if not always in control, and seeing her hiccupping and smiling at nothing, head lolling back and forth as she prattled on was indeed quite a sight.

Briala sat up and blinked a few times as she stared at the empress. Then she chuckled and reached out to touch her cheek. “S’your mother an elf?” she asked.

Celene sighed, expecting a truly horrific pick up line, when she felt Briala tugging on her ear.

“Because these aren’t human,” Briala snorted, throwing her head back so forcefully it smacked against the headboard.

“You deserved that,” Celene said as she rubbed at her ear.

Briala put her hands behind her own tapered ears and pushed them out against her head. Then she made her eyes half lidded, and when she spoke, her voice was heavily Orlesian, as well as lowered.

“Shut ze fuck up; I am ze Empress of Orgay. Geddit, Sleene? Orgay. Because you’re—

“Yes, Bria, I get it. You’re very clever. You should drink some water.”

“Ze empress only drinks ze tea.”

“ _I do not sound like that_.”

“Oh, _oui.”_

“Oh _non.”_

Briala preened happily at that, dropping her hands from her ears. “I like it when you speak Orlesian. And I like…I like your—hic—ears. Your big…big, big ears.”

“Go to sleep, Briala.”

“No, but wait, no, Sleene, wait. I have a very seris question.”

Celene sighed and leaned forward to help Briala lift her very heavy head. Briala hummed softly and giggled before hiccupping once more. “Whe—when the wind blows, how do you not fly away like a kite. Because your ears are like a kite. Just,” Briala blew out a puff of wine scented air, “there she goes…ze Empress of Orgay.”

“ _Goodnight_ , Bria,” Celene said through clenched teeth as she pushed Briala down onto the pillows.

“Goodnight, Sleene. I love you, even your big, big ears.”

“And I love you, even your big, big mouth.”


	15. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How each of them handle their jealousy

Celene always noticed new faces near her at the palace. It was necessary for her survival to memorize faces, should one turn up that she did not expect. And she recognized the young, blonde elf who stood just a bit too close to Briala. They kept their heads down all throughout the dinner, as they were supposed to. But Celene could see the other elf’s lips moving, mouth strained to conceal a smile. And she recognized the subdued smile in Briala’s own mouth and tried to read the words she spoke. She could not, but whatever Briala said made the elven girl smile, and Celene hated that she snapped for more wine just then.

The command caused the blonde elf’s head to shoot up, eyes wide as she came over and filled Celene’s glass, which was already quite full. Ashamed, Celene dared to thank the girl, a faux pas in decorum that caused her guests to pause for just a moment in their conversation. The girl hitched at Celene’s praise and bowed as she was supposed to, sliding back up to the wall next to Briala. From her peripheral Celene could see Briala say something that made the elf girl’s shoulders ease just a bit. They both smiled at one another, and Celene took a rather large sip of wine.

She always wondered if this day would come. The day when Briala would realize she could do much, much better than the Empress of Orlais for a lover. Briala deserved someone who could make her happy day and night, not just from midnight to dawn. She deserved someone who would kiss her when she desired, pull her close and take her hand and put her above everyone in the empire. And that could not be her.

It was early yet, between the two of them. Shy smiles and flirtatious words. But it would progress, Celene thought as she tried to engage in the conversation around the table. It would progress to innocent touches, then not so innocent. Kisses stolen in the kitchen and dark corners, nights spent away from Celene’s chambers and in the arms of another. Someone who could hold her well into the morning and even sit down to breakfast with her the next day. It was a life Celene had fantasized in her precious spare time, and a life that she could never have. With so much stolen from Briala already, what right did Celene have to argue?

It would hurt, yes. Did hurt, even, just to see Briala exchanging familiar glances with another. But Celene was used to this pain, and knew deep down that it was a punishment long since overdue. Still, even this knowledge couldn’t bring back her appetite, and eventually she excused herself from the dinner, feigning fatigue. She could feel Briala’s eyes upon her as she left, but couldn’t dare bring herself to meet them.

Later that evening, when she was dressed and already in bed, Briala returned to her. Celene felt the bed give and the covers lift, and accepted the warm arms that came around her as they did every night. When she dared to lift her head, she was met with an expectant kiss.

“Was it really fatigue that stole your appetite?” Briala whispered into Celene’s hair.

“Yes,” Celene answered, and it was not entirely a lie. “But tell me about your day instead.”

Briala gave a dramatic sigh. “Dreadful. I had to entertain one of your new servant girls for the day.”

“Oh?” Celene asked as her arms tightened around the elf.

“Yes. I believe you saw her. She poured your wine. Turns out she was a Nevarran spy. Didn’t even last a day. All I had to do was bat my eyes a few times at her. She’s worse than you.”

Celene felt her heartache ease and smiled as she leaned up to kiss Briala again.

“Mmm,” Briala hummed as she pulled away. “What was that for?”

“For the way you bat your eyes,” Celene said. “No one can resist them, myself included.”

Briala, of course, then batted her eyes at the empress. “They are for you and you alone, my love.”

They kissed again, and Briala felt it wasn’t worth mentioning that for all her skill in the Game, jealousy was one emotion Celene could not hide. 

* * *

 

“Bria,” Celene called gently, pulling the elf from her dozing.

Briala felt the empress’ arms tighten around her, and looked up into worried blue eyes. “Yes?”

“That…advisor you brought with you from the Dales, the blonde one.”

“Yes?”

“You seemed…rather close.”

Briala sat up in bed and found Celene’s face in the darkness. She touched her cheek and smiled. “We are good friends, yes. Nothing more.”

Celene sighed, her breath ghosting over Briala’s chin. “I know. It’s silly of me to…be concerned. But she’s clearly very smitten with you. And I, I, well, it would hurt, certainly, but if you wanted to—

“Celene.”

“Yes?”

Briala kissed her, slowly and sweetly and just how she knew Celene enjoyed it. Her hand trailed down the empress’ neck and to her arm. Lacing Celene’s fingers with her own, she brought her hand to her chest, and rested it over her heart.

“It beats only for you,” Briala assured.

She felt Celene’s fingers tighten on her chest and kissed her again.

* * *

 

“You were certainly chatty with Lady Sidonie this evening,” Briala clipped as she stepped through the passageway.

Celene turned and eyed her curiously as she removed her earrings. “Yes, the woman can talk the ear off a tranquil. But she knows her support is necessary, and I do what I must.”

“Seemed like you went above and beyond the call of duty.”

The earrings dropped into the jewelry box with a clatter, and Celene felt Briala’s hands on her hair, gently undoing the taut braids. Her fingers massaged along her scalp and Celene sighed, rolling her head back into Briala’s torso.

“I was rather hoping you’d come and save me, marquise. But, unless I’m paranoid, you avoided me all night.”

“You are paranoid,” Briala murmured as she undid a braid. “But it looked like you were enjoying your time with her.”

Celene chuckled softly. “Will I find her dead in the morning, Bria?”

“Only if she’s a threat,” Briala answered, bending down to press her lips to Celene’s forehead before giving a playful tug on her blonde locks.

Celene looked up into Briala’s deep eyes and smiled softly. “She has not your beauty, intellect, strength, compassion...in fact, she has nothing of yours at all.”

“I know. But it’s nice to hear you say it.”

“Do you know what else she doesn’t have, Bria?”

“What’s that?”

“My love.”

The elf’s face relaxed, and this time her smile reached her eyes as she leaned down to kiss Celene once more. 


	16. Celene Sees Briala Fall

Celene had seen it happen. She’d seen Briala misstep, seen the swordsman lift his blade, and watched as her lover’s blood spilt upon the ground. Everything in that moment was lost. Dagger training, Game training, decorum, politics, all of it soaked over with Briala’s blood as she sprinted towards her. She felt her knees sink into the ground, the blood seeping through her clothes, warm and slick.

Briala had always been darker than Celene, and yet now she grew ever paler, her deep eyes wide with fear. Celene saw the gash at her midsection, the blood and perhaps entrails that poured out, and pressed her hands against the wound. Briala exhaled at the pain, eyes searching as she tried to focus, and Celene hushed her groans softly. People screamed around them, footsteps pounding, swords clashing, and yet Celene’s world muted. There was nothing but Briala and her ragged breaths in her arms. Celene leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, kept her lips there and uttered a prayer to the Maker.

Somewhere in the haze Briala called her name, recognized her touch, and responded when Celene bent down to kiss her on the lips. And here when Celene lingered, she gave a prayer to the elven gods as well. Anyone who would listen, please, do not take her away. A presence appeared by her side, hands swatted hers away. She should have cared about who saw her with Briala, but none of it would matter if she passed, and she would not waste her last moments on decorum.

The elf’s lips opened and closed, a final goodbye that lacked the air to carry it, and Celene shook her head, reaching out instead to wipe the blood that trickled from her mouth. Magic hummed at Celene’s side, but she didn’t know if it would be enough. Briala was already so pale, eyes glazed and delirious as she continued to try and speak.

Celene hushed her gently, took her hand and kissed it reverently. Briala deserved nothing but the best, and Celene had never been able to give it to her. She’d wasted Briala’s life for own wishes, and even as a gaping darkness began to fill her chest, somewhere in the back there was relief. It would hurt. Likely it would be the worst pain of her life. But without Briala, she would be indomitable as empress. She would have no weakness, no tether to her humanity. She could finally give herself entirely to Orlais, which deserved nothing less. Tears pressed at her eyes as cradled Briala’s head to her chest and kissed the top of her head. She prayed again and again to any who would listen, and felt every single breath of Briala against her.

“She will recover,” the mage said softly, and left their side.

Celene swallowed and pulled Briala back to look at her. She was still pale, blood dried on the corners of her mouth. But she was alive, and would continue to be. Relief washed over and brought more tears to her eyes. And she forced herself to deposit Briala in the arms of another and wipe the tears from her eyes.

“Take her to safety,” the empress ordered, her voice cold once more. She needn’t look back to see if they obeyed before putting her mask into place and diving into the fray again. 


	17. Cocky Briala AU

Celene ran her finger slowly around the rim of her wine glass. It was still half full, and a little warmer than wine should be, and she was not all that inclined to finish it. The din of the bar stung her ears. People shouting, laughing, drunk talking over one another as if it was a competition. She could be home right now finalizing her reports for the meeting on Monday. Instead she was here, smelling booze and cigarettes and too much cologne and having her ears assaulted. Perhaps she should have ordered something stronger.

A particularly heinous cackle made her cringe, and she turned to the woman who released it. Her head was thrown back, throat bobbing up and down as she continued to stifle the crowd with her guffaw. Celene snarled, suddenly embarrassed by her coworker, even though she’d ditched her as soon as they walked through the door. So much for trying to be social.

“What is it with being loud in bars?” a surprisingly calm voice asked to Celene’s right. She turned and regarded the woman next to her. She was darker, freckled, and had large, deep eyes. Her lips were upturned in a cocky smirk, eyebrows raised as she waited for Celene to respond. Her hair was lush and alive and wreathed around her face, unfazed by the thick, smoky air. She smiled wider and ran her thumb down the label of her beer bottle.

“I mean, it’s not a competition. If I wanted to hear you, I’d go and talk to you. And that can’t be her real laugh, right?”

Celene smiled softly. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“You know her?”

Celene eyed her for a moment, then shrugged. “Unfortunately,” she said before taking a sip of her wine.

“She’s not your girlfriend, is she?”

Celene’s expression was answer enough, and the woman laughed. It was pleasant, natural, so unlike any other sounds of this horrible bar.

“I didn’t think so. I just had to make sure. I’m Briala,” she said, extending her hand.

“Celene.”

“Lovely name for a lovely woman.”

Celene scoffed. “That doesn’t actually work, does it?”

Briala shrugged again, still smiling, and reached out to push a loose piece of hair behind Celene’s ear. Her thumb brushed against Celene’s cheek as she did. “You tell me. You have a pretty blush, by the way.”

Celene’s eyes widened, and she pulled back from Briala’s touch, pushing her hair back by herself. Briala dropped her hand, but her smile remained and she lifted her chin towards Celene’s wine. “Can I buy you another?”

“No, thank you.”

“Can I continue to keep you company?”

“Only if you wipe that cocky grin off your face.”

“Then stop falling for it.”

“I’m not falling for it.”

Briala leaned in and pressed her lips to Celene’s ear. Her warm breath made Celene shiver. “Your blush says otherwise.” She placed her cheek against Celene’s. “So warm. You know what else is warm?” She pulled away and Celene watched Briala’s eyes slowly scan her face. Briala made no attempt to hide her attraction, and yet Celene could not bring herself to be put off. Even with all her arrogance, she was cute, and not what Celene had expected coming out of this bar tonight.

“My bed,” Briala said finally as she raised her eyebrows.

“You’ve got a big mouth, Briala,” Celene said slowly as she slid off her stool. “How do I know you’re not all talk?”

Briala hopped off her own stool and placed a few bills on the bar beneath her beer. Then she extended her hand to Celene. “I could show you, if you’re interested.”

Celene licked her lips just as her coworker cackled again. The both of them rolled their eyes, and with a smile, Celene slid her hand into Briala’s. 


	18. Briala Listening to Celene Being Scholarly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She tries so hard

“Bria? Bria, are you listening to me?”

With a soft snore, Briala jerked her head up from where it precariously teetered on her wrist. She blinked quickly as Celene’s bedchambers came into focus, and forced sleep from her mind. “Yes, yes, I’m listening. Where were you?”

When no response was forthcoming, Briala turned her head to find Celene in a pout with her hands on her hips. She resisted the urge to laugh at the petulant glare on the empress’ face and instead raised her eyebrows innocently as she waited for an answer. “Hmm?”

“The correlation between Blight occurrences and nug mating, Bria.”

“ _Right, right,”_ Briala nodded. “Right…um, please continue.”

Celene sighed, but dropped her hands from her hips. “I’ve been reading reports on nug populations from the last few ages and—

“ _Why_ , Celene? Isn’t there something else you could be doing with your time? Like pulling teeth?”

“ _And I’ve discovered_ ,” Celene warned through clenched teeth, “that five years before a blight occurs, the population of nugs increases and continues to increase until the Blight is dealt with, whereupon the numbers dwindle to a normal rate.”

“Mhmm,” Briala said as she rested her head back on her fist. It was quite late, and she’d been up all night last night working on a lead from one of her spies.

“And this is indicative of…”

Her eyelids were heavy, and Celene’s bedchambers were warm from the crackling fire. Her nightgown was soft against her skin and Celene’s voice, although stuck on a boring topic, was soothing to hear ear.

“Which, if I’ve done the math correctly—

Celene stopped as she heard a soft snore coming from the elf. With another sigh, she made her way over, prepared to wake Briala again. But then she saw how relaxed she looked as she slept, and the slight bags under her eyes. Smiling, she reached out and touched Briala’s cheek. The elf hummed lightly at her touch, not quite asleep but certainly not away. Her theories could wait until the morning.

“Come, Bria,” she murmured, helping to lift her from the chair.

“M’listening,” Briala mumbled even as she climbed under the covers.

“Yes, thank you.”

Using what was left of her alertness, Briala leaned over and kissed Celene on the cheek before falling back onto the pillow. The empress returned it and laid next to her, pulling Briala’s back into her front. Briala’s hair tickled her nose, but her stomach was warm against Celene’s palm, and the empress fell asleep to the gentle push of her breathing against it. 


	19. Solo Briala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briala warming up while thinking of Celene. Mature-Explicit

“I don’t know if you know this, _da’len,”_ Felassan said as he used a stick to pick between his teeth, “but that bowl does not feel the pain you’re trying to inflict on it.”

Briala swallowed a mouthful of stew too quickly and it burned all the way down her throat before smoldering in her stomach. It was late, the only light coming from their fire pit, and Felassan’s _vallaslin_ glowed as it molded against his grin. Despite the decent fire they had going, Briala still felt cold and she clutched the stew to her chest. “Forgive me, _hahren_. I was not aware.”

“No, you seemed quite lost in thought. Anything interesting? The bowl wasn’t supposed to symbolize me, was it?”

Briala shook her head and moved from her bed roll to sit closer to the fire. She knew better than to complain about her lot in life to Felassan, and kept it to herself that she was tired of being cold and sleeping on hard ground and having the same rabbit stew over and over. Felassan would tell her that she was speaking from luxury, from knowing something better and having it stripped away. In so many passive aggressive taunts, call her ungrateful. And she knew he’d be right. Her mentor added a few more logs to the fire and moved them with his staff, which somehow remained untouched by the flames.

“Is it her again?” he asked, finally.

Briala swallowed, felt it travel down the tender burn of her throat, and swirled her stew. It was always her. No matter how many years she’d spent away, it was always Celene. Felassan had tried to make her forget, going so far as to shell out coin for a tavern wench or two, and that had been nice, but it was not her. And when Felassan realized that Celene was not leaving her thoughts any time soon, he stopped wasting coin. She didn’t know what he thought of Celene, if anything at all, but whatever his personal opinions, he was kind when speaking of her now, and for that Briala was grateful. She answered him with a shrug and Felassan sighed, standing from his bedroll to make an elaborate stretch.

“Well,” he grunted as he held his stretch, “I’m going for a walk. I’m going to go far away, and won’t return until dawn. Find a way to keep warm, hmm?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her and Briala blushed in spite of herself. “Felassan, you don’t have to. I’m not going to—

“Who said anything about _you_?” he interrupted. “Maybe I need a little warmth of my own.”

Briala’s feigned retch made him chuckle and with a wave of his fingers he disappeared into the woods. She listened to his footsteps until she could hear them no more and finished her stew. By the time she finished and cleaned her bowl, more wood needed to be added to the fire. There were still a few more hours until dawn and she brought her arms around herself, unwilling to retire to bed just yet. Felassan had been right. He was always right. While she could usually ignore it, today had been hard. She woke up from a dream involving a much more pleasant kiss from Celene, and still felt traces of her on her lips. Celene would be twenty now, older, in one of those extravagant gowns that an empress wore. Briala imagined her pale skin in a myriad of different gowns and smiled softly. Her bottom grew numb from the hard ground and as she adjusted she wondered what Celene’s bed would feel like, how she would feel against her, the warm, soft skin.

Licking her lips, Briala opened her eyes and looked around, listening intently. If Felassan was around, she could not find him. He’d played this little game before, and had never once returned before promised. And she was still cold. She stoked the fire once more and pulled her bedroll just a bit closer to it before removing her boots and crawling beneath her thin blanket. Lying on her back, she watched her breath smoke out and cloud the star speckled sky. Her hand roamed gently over her stomach, feeling the muscles she’d worked hard to perfect, and she wondered if Celene would like them. If she’d run her tongue over them and make them harden just for her.

The thought made her skin tingle, and sent a rush of warmth between her legs. Briala looked around once more and closed her eyes. She imagined Celene older, her face thinner and her body shapely. Her nightgown would be silken, almost see through, and clung tightly to her body. Briala imagined Celene stepping out from the trees, glowing like a spirit in the moonlight, soundless as she stepped towards her. They would embrace, talk, and it would be as if no time at all had passed. Sometime in the night, Celene would yawn, and Briala would offer her bedroll. But Celene would be cold, and demand they sleep together for warmth.

Briala felt the heat of the flames against her cheek and imagined it as Celene’s touch, her fingers ghosting gently over her, questioning. With a single hand she undid the tie on her pants, her hand slipping beneath and mouth parting as Celene kissed her. It was slow at first, testing and reveling. Then Celene deepened the kiss. Briala felt her tongue, remembered the taste of Celene’s mouth and smell of her face paint. Lips that always held a soft simper. She imagined the weight of the empress on top of her, fingertips tracing along her sides. Briala ran her free hand up her shirt, pretended it was Celene and imagined her smirking as she felt the taut muscles.

She spread her legs wider and rocked her hips into her hand, remembering the sound of Celene’s voice, the feel of her lips against her ear when they would whisper together in the darkness. She smiled, knowing that Celene would know exactly how to touch her, and let out a soft moan. Sweat beaded along her neck, pooled in the dip in her collarbone, and she flung her blanket off, feeling the rush of cold against her heated skin. Celene’s eyes were so dark that night, so piercing and full of love and sadness. She imagined them now, imagined Celene when she pulled away from their kiss, breathless and red-faced despite the face paint. She was the most beautiful woman Briala had ever seen. Briala moaned again, close now, and imagined Celene over top of her, looking at her with love, her hand moving against Briala. She tried to remember Celene’s smell, and rocked harder as she imagined lips on her ear again.

“I love you,” Celene would murmur, her voice low and confident.

With a single, airy cry of Celene’s name, Briala arched her back as her release washed over her. Heat bloomed throughout her body, swimming slowly over her and clouding her head. Panting, Briala removed her hand and licked her lips again. For the few brief minutes as she came down, Briala could pretend she was lying on a bed of Antivan sheets in the Imperial Palace with Celene by her side. The fantasy blew away with the next gust of wind, and Briala shivered as she opened her eyes to the campsite. She was alone, on a cold, hard ground. No amount of warm pulsing between her legs could change that. But, perhaps someday, she could experience the real thing. She could experience Celene’s love in more than just a single, shared kiss. And return it just as fervently. And it was that hope that sent the elf off to bed, finally warm on the cold, cold night. 


	20. Cocky Briala Fail AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can't always be smooth.

“Is this seat taken?”

Celene looked over and took in the sight of the woman next to her. She was short, sinewy, the majority of her bulk resting in the soft brown curls around her head. Shaking her head, Celene watched as the smaller woman climbed onto the barstool. She lifted her chin to the bartender, and smiled as he greeted her by name, reaching to grab a bottle of beer behind him.

“Briala, huh?” Celene asked as her beer was set down.

“Yes, ma’am,” Briala answered with a smack of her lips. “And you are?”

“Celene.”

“Very nice to meet you.”

They clinked their beers together and drank, Celene finishing hers off. Briala caught sight of the bartender again and pointed to Celene’s bottle with a nod.

“Did you just buy me a drink?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Celene quirked an eyebrow at her. “What if I didn’t want another drink?”

“More for me, then.”

“You’re kinda cocky, aren’t you?”

Briala smiled. “Maybe, but I can back it up.”

The bartender set the beer in front of Briala, and as she reached to extend it to Celene, it slipped from her hand, spilling onto the bar and nearly all over Celene’s pants, had she not jumped from the stool. Briala cursed, grabbing a handful of napkins and wiping the spill as a few patrons glanced warily at her. Celene checked her pants over, and watched as Briala’s face sank, the cockiness from before dwindling into self-consciousness.

Giving her the kindest smile she could muster, Celene shook her head. “Sorry, Briala, I don’t think you can.”

Briala laughed softly despite the rejection and nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair. Let me at least buy you another beer before I go. I won’t touch it, I promise.”

Celene nodded and with slightly drooping ears, Briala signaled the bartender, taking his jokes about her clumsiness in stride. Then she took her own beer and flashed Celene a smile before moving to a table where she seemed to know some people. Celene sighed and laughed quietly with the bartender before he moved on to other patrons. When her bottle was halfway finished, someone else took the seat next to her. He was ruggedly handsome, and also seemed cocky like Briala, but rather than endearing, this man seemed predatory, and Celene swallowed as she looked around the bar, finding comfort in the many patrons.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” Celene said firmly, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

“You got a problem with free drinks?”

“I’ve had plenty tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should walk you home then.”

“No, thank you.”

The man smiled too widely. “Come on, baby, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to be nice.”

He reached out and placed his hand on Celene’s thigh. She swiped his hand off quickly, prepared for whatever he was about to say next, when Briala appeared by her side. She smiled widely, and reached out to touch Celene’s shoulder.

“Celene! Oh my god, I haven’t seen you forever! How are you doing?” she cried.

Celene smiled, relieved, and hopped off of her stool to hug Briala. “Briala, so good to see you!”

They talked idly for a bit, as Briala edged closer and closer to the man’s chair. Finally, he took the hint and his leave, throwing an eye roll their way as he moved to the end of the bar. Briala watched him go, then smiled kindly at Celene. “You okay? I hope I didn’t overstep, but he seemed—

“No, no I’m glad you did. And I’m fine, thank you.”

“Good, good. Um, well, you’re welcome to sit with my friends if you want, so he doesn’t bother you again.”

“Actually, I think I’m heading home now. Tonight’s been quite an adventure.”

Briala blushed again, looking to the beer in her hand and nodded. “Yeah…sorry about earlier. Well, I hope you have a good night. Get home safely. If…if you need I’ve got a buddy over there who would walk you home, or something.”

Celene shifted from one foot to the other as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “I…I was wondering if maybe you’d be interested.”

Briala’s ears twitched in surprise, and a blush colored her cheeks as she shook her head. “Look, Celene, I didn’t do that back there,” she jerked her thumb towards the man, “to get a second chance with you. Ruins the purpose of girl code.”

“I know you didn’t,” Celene said with a smile. “That’s why I’m giving you a second chance, if…if you want it.”

Briala licked her lips and smiled. “Are you sure?”

“Walk me home and we’ll see.”

“Now who’s cocky?” Briala asked as she shrugged on her jacket.

Celene smirked and allowed Briala to open the door for them as they made their way out onto the chilly street. 


	21. Valentine's Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cheesy af

When Celene came home from work that evening, the house was dark. She frowned, knowing full well that’d she’d Briala’s car in the driveway, and set her purse and keys by the door. The house smelled wonderful, and she followed the only light—soft orange—emitting from the dining room. The box she’d purchased weeks ago, wrapped in red paper and tied with a bow was hidden behind her back as she emerged into the room.

The light came from candles, long and glowing faintly over an enormous meal of Celene’s favorites. Briala sat at one end of the table in her best dress. When she stood and crossed the room towards Celene, the high slit of the dress revealed a dark, toned thigh, and her hips stood out against the thin material.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Briala cooed with a smile as she embraced Celene.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Celene returned, hugging Briala with one hand as she kept the present behind her back. “You’ve outdone yourself. And me.”

Briala chuckled. “It’s not a competition. But still…gimme,” she said, reaching for the present.

Celene teased her for a moment, keeping it out of reach until Briala gave in and kissed her slowly. She was then rewarded with her present. Briala admired the wrapping for a moment, but was stopped by Celene’s hand when made to undo the bow.

“I think you’ll like it more after dinner,” Celene murmured, kissing Briala again.

Briala feigned a pout but set the gift on the table, ushering Celene into a seat. They took their time eating, sneaking kisses, feeding each other some of the many delicacies Briala had prepared and sneaking several kisses and lingering touches along the way. When they could not possibly eat any more, Celene sat back in her chair and sighed, still holding onto Briala’s hand.

“That was amazing, Bria, truly. And we’ll have leftovers for days,” she laughed, looking out at all the dishes, many with only a few bites taken out of them.

“I may have…gotten a little carried away,” Briala admitted as she gave Celene’s hand a squeeze. “But you enjoyed it, and that’s all that matters.”

“Very much. And I will continue to for all the months that it lasts.”

“So rude,” Briala teased. “Are you too full for dessert, then?”

“Actually,” Celene said, rising to push Briala back into her chair. “Although I know your dessert will be amazing, I think now would be a good time to open your present.”

Briala raised an eyebrow and watched as Celene picked up the box and handed it to her. “Chocolate, Celene? Really?”

“Don’t judge. I put a lot of thought into this one.”

Briala rolled her eyes but proceeded to open the package. The box was cream colored, gold script swirled in the center. Briala eyed it curiously, then lifted the box to smell the chocolate. Instantly she was hit with a memory. Walking into a small, corner chocolate shop in Belgium on their honeymoon. It was practically a hole in the wall, run by an aging couple and their younger son, but it was the best chocolate Briala had ever tasted.

“Celene,” Briala whispered, meeting her eyes. “Is this…from Belgium?”

Celene nodded. “Had to pull quite the many strings to get it here. They don’t do international deliveries, you know.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it…after I’ve sent my mouth on a journey,” Briala said, opening the box and popping a piece into her mouth. She groaned and sank back into her chair. “It’s just as I remembered,” she slurred through the chocolate. “I can feel my soul ascending and my arteries clogging.”

“Not so mad about getting chocolate for Valentine’s Day now, are you?”

“I can never be mad at you for anything ever again ever.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Briala groaned happily again and eyed the box. Perhaps there were enough pieces to last her for a few days, if she didn’t pace herself, and a lot more if she did. “There are probably a thousand calories in each of these,” she said after a moment, popping another into her mouth. “I’m going to have to work out for hours.”

“Or…” Celene said slowly, rising from the chair and taking Briala’s hand. She rose with the box still in her hand, and Celene took it from her, hiding it behind her back again. “We could do…something else for hours and hours.”

Briala smiled, and Celene tasted the chocolate on her lips when they kissed, just as sweet as she remembered. “What did you have in mind?” Briala asked as she pulled away.

Celene shrugged and pretended to think. “Well…I thought we could see how well this chocolate melts, if you’re interested.”

Celene’s hand was crawling up the high slit of Briala’s dress, but she managed a nod. “Lead the way,” she breathed.

“By the way,” Celene said as she pulled Briala to the bedroom. “Whoever gets burned out first has to do the dishes.”

“Oh, _you’re on._ ”


	22. Valentine's Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mature-Explicit

“I hate this holiday,” Briala grumbled into her Bluetooth as she headed home.

“Oh?” Celene asked on the other end of the line.

“You should have seen the office today. Pink and red everywhere, smelling of roses and cheap chocolate. I almost broke my window to get some fresh air.”

Celene’s quiet, calm chuckle eased the tension in Briala’s shoulders. “You know what it is?” she continued as she turned down the street to their home. “It’s the exhibitionism of the whole affair. ‘Oh, look what my lover got me, look how sweet they are, look how much better they are than yours blah, blah, blah. Do you know how many inquiries I got about ‘where your gift was’ today, Celene? At least seven.”

“Well, I suppose I should have gotten you a gift then.”

“No, no that just feeds into the propaganda. Wait, you’re not mad at me for not getting you a gift, are you?”

Celene chuckled again. “I know how you feel about this holiday, Bria. I’m not mad.”

“Okay, good. I was worried there for a minute. I’m glad we don’t get each other gifts,” she finished as she pulled up to the house. Enjoying her diatribe, she continued rather than hang up to wait to speak to Celene inside. “Because, why do we need one day to show our love for each other?”

“Mhmm.”

Briala stepped inside and made her way into the living room. “And you know what else?”

“What?” Celene asked, her voice coming both from Briala’s left and the Bluetooth in her right ear.

Briala turned, prepared to make her best point yet, and instead her jaw fell open. Celene was reclined on the couch, cell phone pressed to her hear and she winked as she caught sight of Briala. Long, pale legs traveled up to a red sheer negligee, see-through save for the small hearts over her nipples. Her hair was up in a sloppy bun, Briala’s favorite style on her, and the open mouthed, cocky smirk on her face was almost too much to bear.

“Are you going to finish your thought, Bria?” Celene asked, setting her phone on the table with an authoritative tap.

“I…what was I talking about?” Briala asked.

The long legs uncrossed and rose from the couch, and Briala felt herself growing hotter as Celene neared. She sighed, and wrapped her arms around Briala’s neck.

“Your hatred for all things Valentine’s Day,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to Briala’s cheek.

“It was a lie,” Briala breathed as her fingers smoothed out against the fabric of Celene’s negligee. “I love Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Celene mumbled in between kisses down Briala’s neck. “I’d hate for this gift of mine to go to waste.”

Briala sighed and closed her eyes at Celene’s touch, turning her head to allow her lips to roam further. Her hands traveled past Celene’s garment, then back up and underneath, and she smiled as she felt goose bumps rise beneath her touch.

“Though, I do feel bad I didn’t get you anything now.”

Celene hummed in Briala’s ear and nipped at her earlobe. “You can give me something now, if you’d like. It was part of the plan, I admit.”

“I can do that.”

Briala gripped the edges of Celene’s negligee and pulled it up and over her head. Once it was off she wasted no time in dipping her head and kissing along the expanse of Celene’s chest. Fingers ran through her hair, stroking her scalp and urging her downward to her breasts. Briala gripped at Celene’s hips and pushed her gently back on the couch. Celene laid back and smiled, curling a finger to draw the elf nearer. Briala obliged quickly, kneeling in front of Celene and pushing herself between her legs. She leaned forward and continued her mapping of Celene’s skin, listening as Celene moaned and sighed her approval. She could feel fingertips on her back and shoulders, gripping and urging her for more.

Those parted, breathless lips were too much to resist, and Briala surged upwards, accepting the welcoming moan as she kissed Celene deeply. Celene’s breath caught in her throat as Briala’s hand went between her legs. She felt Celene’s tongue delve into her mouth as she began to stroke her slowly.

“Bria,” Celene breathed, her hips rocking gently against her hand.

Briala smiled at her name, the reverent way in which Celene spoke it, and kissed her gently as a tingling warmth spread over body. She pulled away slowly and took a moment for herself to study Celene’s beautiful flushed face, her parted lips, and the glazed over look in her eyes. Looking down she noticed the rocking of her hips, the tightening of her stomach, and felt the way Celene’s fingers gripped at her back.

Celene instinctively slid to the end of the couch cushion as Briala knelt lower. She chuckled at Celene and skimmed her nails up and down her thighs before she pressed her mouth against her. A willowy sigh escaped Celene, who moved slowly against Briala’s insistent tongue. Freckled hands slid up and down Celene’s sides, over her breath and up to Celene’s lips, where her fingertips were gently kissed. Celene gave a low moan, hands moving to Briala’s head to keep her in place, despite her not having any intention of going anywhere. She felt the fervor of Celene’s hips increase, and gripped tightly to her sides, forcing herself to keep at a steady pace. It was all too tempting to go harder, faster, give Celene pleasure as fast as possible. But she also knew that slower was better and she smiled against Celene as she heard her name moaned once more.

With a firm grip on Briala’s head, Celene threw her own back and cried out softly as she came, rocking against her lover’s mouth. Briala continued her pace until she felt Celene relax against her, and she pulled away, wiping her hand on her mouth. Celene was flushed and panting, eyes closed as she came down. Her mouth was closed, but a simper lingered on her lips, and grew wider when Briala came near and kissed her gently.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Briala cooed as she pulled away.

Celene’s familiar, calm chuckle resonated through her. “Now you’re an avid fan of it, huh?”

“Oh, most definitely. Thank you for helping me to see the error of my ways.”

“It was truly my pleasure.”

“You’re so lame,” Briala laughed as she kissed her again.

“Maybe, but I’m also eager to do a little celebrating of my own,” Celene answered with a raised eyebrow. Briala felt those same fingers pulling her onto the couch and decided that she really loved Valentine’s Day.


	23. Briala/Celene The 100 Crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because them in grounder gear. Think about it.

Polis still seemed unnatural to Briala. It was bizarre to see children again, to hear laughter, perky chatter and smiles and bright eyes. Peace. It had been a long time since Briala entertained the notion of peace. And yet it seemed so accessible here, radiated in the stone walls and warriors’ swords. Protection, safety…peace. She was just beginning to entertain the idea. Allowed her eyes to close in the bath, accepted the finery offered by the commander because it was nice to be in clean clothes again, and, maybe, sometimes she smiled at a passing civilian on the street.

But the only constant on the ground was war. And like always, just as Briala considered complacency, mutiny arose within the coalition. She remembered sitting firmly in her chair, trying to comprehend the rapid fire trigedasleng around her while watching the other ambassadors rise against their _heda_. Briala watched Celene on her throne, eyebrow raised, face betraying nothing as one by one, the members of her coalition stood against her. Briala studied her intently, the light shade of her eyes, relaxed position of her mouth, even looked at the intricate blonde braids woven through her scalp. She looked unfazed, strong and confident as always. But there was a tension in her fingers as she gripped the arms of her throne, and Briala swallowed as Celene rose.

In three strides she stood before Gaspard, the ringleader of this attempted usurpation. He was taller than her, and her chin lifted as she regarded him. He smiled down at her, and his arrogance had bile creeping up the back of Briala’s throat.

“ _Unanimous,”_ he sneered in trigedasleng.

Briala glared at him, gripping the arms of her chair. Dynamite could not have blown her from her seat. “It’s _not_ unanimous,” she snapped.

Gaspard jerked his head towards her, snarling, “ _We_ do not recognize your—

“You do,” Celene said calmly, moving to Briala’s side.

Briala barely felt her touch as Celene lifted her arm, exposing the newly healing brand that marked her as ambassador for her clan. She had forgotten how it ached until now.

“She took the oath yesterday.” Celene released Briala’s arm. “Your vote fails.”

Gaspard’s lip twitched in another snarl. His eyes darkened, teeth yellowed as he ground out, “I challenge you.”

“I accept your challenge,” Celene said quickly, as if she’d been expecting it.

Gaspard chuckled and lifted his head towards Briala. “ _Will she be your champion as well?”_ he asked in trigedasleng.

“ _No one fights for me,”_ Celene growled back.

“Good. I look forward to it.”

With a delicate lift of her chin, Gaspard was escorted from the room. Briala watched the various ambassadors eye Celene warily, before they too, made their leave. Only when it was the two of them did Briala feel comfortable enough to stand. Celene still stood in the center of the room, eyes forward, towards the door where twelve betrayers just freely walked out.

“This challenge,” Briala said slowly, watching Celene’s eyes dart to her, though she made no other motion to move. “It is a fight to the death.”

“Yes.”

Celene’s voice betrayed no fear, and Briala felt her anger growing. She was new to this land. Her people were seen as outsiders, feared and loathed. Celene had been the first to accept them, to introduce them into this new world with a governing body, with stability, infrastructure, hope. Even still, with the brand fresh on Briala’s arm, it was not enough. And the one person who did not see her people as a threat was going to die. She’d heard of Gaspard, of his prowess in battle. And she’d seen his muscles straining through his shirt. She’d seen him sparring and knew the arrogance in his eyes was not undeserved. A shiver of dread ran down her spine.

“Commander, you cannot do this,” Briala hissed, daring to reach out and take Celene’s arm.

Celene turned then and eyed Briala’s touch with confusion. “I must.”

“You will die.”

A smirk touched the corner of Celene’s lips. “You have so little faith in me?”

“I have seen Gaspard fight.”

“But you have not seen me fight.” Celene’s tone was clipped, a slight irritation. And thought the irritation was directed towards her, Briala couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved that she was finally getting some emotion out of the commander.

“He is a head taller than you, Celene, stronger. For all your skill, he has pure force behind him.”

“It is not up for discussion,” Celene said, pulling her arm free and making her way towards the door.

Briala watched her go, anger rising inside of her. “I will not watch you kill yourself!” she shouted after her.

Celene’s hand stilled on the door. Briala watched her shoulders rise in a deep breath, then light blue eyes turned on her. “I had hoped to have your support. It seemed you would be the only one. But if that is not the case…then I guess this is goodbye.”

The words swam through Briala’s mind for the rest of the day. She had seen grounders fighting, the savagery in their blades. Despite her best efforts she could not quell the image of Celene on the ground, blood pooling from her mouth as Gaspard is declared the commander. And her people are executed on the spot simply for existing. All to come at dawn.

“It is late,” one of the guards at Celene’s door said, not unkindly. “Heda is not taking visitors.”

Briala gripped at her thigh, felt the soft material of the nightgown Celene had provided for her. “Please, I must speak with her.”

“Heda is not taking visitors.”

Briala tried to step past them, a futile attempt as their staves crossed Celene’s door. One of the guards put his hand on her shoulder, gently but insistently, and she took a chance, calling Celene’s name out into the dim hallway. The grip on her shoulder tightened and as she felt herself being escorted away, she heard Celene’s door open.

“Let her pass.”

Even through the scuffle, Celene’s calm voice persevered, and the grip on Briala’s shoulder disappeared. She looked at the guards, who resumed their positions, staring straight ahead, and passed them quickly. Celene held the door for her and closed it after she entered. Her hair was down, Briala noted, brushed and pushed over one shoulder. She was in a gown similar to Briala’s, dark brown with a high slit at the thigh. Briala watched the muscled leg flex as Celene walked towards her, and swallowed when she met the commander’s eyes.

Celene looked at her curiously for a moment, studied Briala’s own brushed hair and the soft blue nightgown she was in. Then with a quick wave of her hand, gestured to a small sitting area in the corner of her room. Briala made her way over, noting the luxury that came with being a commander. Her own private bath, a large, beautifully carved bet, two seating areas, and a grand fireplace. She took her seat on one of the chairs, and watched as Celene gracefully draped herself against the other. She looked so natural like this, clean and in flowing gowns. It was hard to believe she was the same woman with braided hair and purple war paint who had no reservations about booting someone off the tallest level of the tower.

The commander sat patiently, regarding Briala as if she had all the time in the world. Briala knew she needed sleep. She needed to be at her best before dawn. But judging by the still made bed, Celene had not been asleep when she arrived.

“Please, commander,” she said again, leaning forward in her chair. “There must be some other way.”

Disappointment flashed across Celene’s eyes before she concealed it with a sigh. “We’ve been over this, ambassador.”

“But you…you’re…” Briala frowned and fiddled with her gown as she tried to find the words. Her brand ached slightly as her fingers moved. “You are different,” she said finally. “If Gaspard wins…he’ll see me, my people, killed.”

Celene smiled slightly, not unlike she would to a child. “If Gaspard succeeds in killing me, he will not become ruler. Only nightbloods are fit to rule. If I pass, my spirit will fall to the next nightblood.”

“Nightblood?”

Celene turned her head, as if making a realization, and flipped her gown, revealing more of her long, pale thigh. Briala felt her mouth go dry as Celene plucked a knife from a hidden sheath on her leg and stood.

“Come,” she said gently as she made her way to the fire.

Briala stood slowly and followed the commander. She caught sight of the tattoo on the Celene’s back, and studied the intricate designs, wondering what they could possibly mean. The fire was warm against her and cast an orange glow on Celene’s pale skin. In this light she could see the slight rise of scars alone Celene’s neck and arms, the brand that matched Briala’s own, signifying their unity. It was a hideous rust color on Celene’s arm, and Briala had to look away, instead turning her focus to the glint of the knife in Celene’s hand. The commander brought the knife over her forearm and made a tiny nick. Briala watched a small drop of blood rise from beneath her skin, and her eyes widened as Celene placed her finger against it, dragging it along her skin.

It was black. Briala blinked and took Celene’s arm, lifting it to the fire to get a better view. Another small drop collected and Briala spread it out as well. Against the near whiteness of Celene’s arm, there was no denying it: her blood was black as night.

“I…how?”

“It has always been this way. The first commander had nightblood, and the spirit only passes to other nightbloods.”

Still fixated on Celene’s arm, Briala jumped slightly at Celene’s hand on her cheek. The commander pulled away and looked apologetically at Briala, smiling sadly. “You need not fear my death. My soul will choose well. And your people will remain unharmed.”

Briala scoffed. “Forgive me if I’m not overjoyed.”

Celene frowned, confused, and Briala shook her head. “There’s more to you than your soul, Celene. There’s more going on here than, than a _spirit_ can achieve. The new commander will not be you.”

In apology for her jump, Briala reached out and took Celene’s hand. Celene’s hands were rough, calloused, and still gentle as they held Briala’s own. Briala had never known a gentler touch, and it still surprised her that this woman could slay armies without a second thought. “Please,” she tried a final time.

Celene closed her eyes and removed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Tears pressed at Briala’s eyes. “Well,” she said, cheeks flushing as her voice cracked, “I guess this is goodbye then. I can’t watch you die, Celene. I won’t.”

Celene opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it again and nodded. “As you wish, Briala. May we meet again.”

* * *

 

The entirety of Polis gathered at the proving grounds. Celene could hear shouts of her title and Gaspard’s name, and could decipher which were louder. She secured her boots and rolled her head to the side. She had not slept well, but she was prepared for this fight. Gaspard was a good fighter, strong, but slow. And his arrogance would be his downfall. She had to be faster, keep her wits, and she would prevail. With the sun in position, Celene made her way over to the aid holding her sword. Her put her hand around the hilt, and resisted the urge to smile. This blade knew her well, and had saved her life many times. Today would be no different. She pulled the sword from her sheath to the roar of the crowd, listening as Gaspard did the same.

Just as she was about to turn and face her death, she caught sight of Briala in the crowd. Even with the hood, Celene could not miss those eyes, so large and full of that which Celene could never have. Briala met her eyes and smiled softly. Celene could not return the smile, but she did nod in Briala’s direction. The support of one was nothing compared to Gaspard, but it was a strength she needed. Briala’s eyes widened, mouth opening to shout Celene’s name.

But Celene had heard him coming, heard the loud footsteps of a heavy man and turned, dodging the sword aimed at her back. Gaspard had put his full weight into the slash, and with nothing in front of him to catch the blow he staggered forward. Celene allowed him to regain his footing as she backed into the center of the circle, sword raised. Cheap tactics were not illegal, but she didn’t need them, and would not stoop to Gaspard’s level to win. Gaspard turned quickly, and Celene braced as he stepped forward. They circled each other a few times, and Celene struck first, lunging forward. Gaspard parried her attack and pushed hard against her blade, trying to wrench it from her grasp. Celene held firm and stepped to the side again, sending a shallow swipe across his cheek.

Crimson blood dripped down his face and Gaspard smiled, catching Celene off guard by charging her. Celene sliced cleanly across his shoulder, but it was not enough to stop him from knocking her to the ground. Briala winced as she heard Celene’s grunt, and winced again as Gaspard’s boot came down on her hand, sending her sword into the crowd. He kicked her across the face, Celene’s head jerking to the side with the impact. Briala watched as black blood spattered across the ground and grit her teeth. Every muscle in her body longed to rush out and help, and she clenched her fists as she watched Gaspard stand over Celene.

He flipped his sword in his hand and pressed it to Celene’s neck. Celene looked up at him and spit, her blood spraying over his sword and pants.

“You fought well, Celene,” he mocked. “This is an honorable death.”

Gaspard lifted his sword, and Celene bolted upright, jamming the back of her elbow into the back of Gaspard’s leg and making his knee buckle. Then she rose, and slammed her elbow into his back, where he fell to the floor. His sword clattered from his hand and Celene picked it up as Gaspard rose.

“I have not begun to fight,” Celene said.

Someone in the crowd threw Celene’s sword back into the circle, and Briala groaned as the commander allowed him to pick it up. Why didn’t she just filet him when she had the chance? Briala watched the blood drizzle in a constant stream from Celene’s mouth, the swelling on the side of her head and saw the fury in her eyes.

Gaspard swung first this time, and Celene parried him away. He struck again and their swords locked. Gaspard pushed, his strength and weight causing Celene to yield beneath him. Her knees bent, body shaking as she struggled against him. Briala’s eyes widened as Celene gripped the blade of her sword, more blood seeping between her fingers as she pushed back with more balance, dropping her hand to land a swift punch across his other cheek. Gaspard didn’t flinch, merely struck again, and Celene countered it, moving quickly enough to get his blade out of the way and pierce her own through his stomach. The crowd went silent as Gaspard lurched forward, his sword dropping from his hand. Celene placed her boot on his chest and pulled her sword free, sending Gaspard back to the ground. With all the grace Celene always possessed, she stepped over him, and quickly slit his throat, some of his blood spraying onto the nearby crowd.

Briala watched Celene’s shoulders heaving, the blood still dripping from her mouth, her purple war paint smeared and dark against her eyes. She dropped her sword by Gaspard’s side and looked to the crowd. It erupted so quickly it made Briala jump. Cheers and screams and chants of “Heda” over and over again. Soon Briala joined them, screaming “Heda” at the top of her lungs and thrusting her fist in the air. In the midst of it all, she could have sworn she saw Celene smile.

She did not see the commander for the rest of the day. Excuses were made all throughout the day as to why Celene was busy, but Briala knew she was tending to her wounds. For all her strength, she’d taken quite the kick to the head. And who knew how deep the cut on her hand went. For the moment, it didn’t matter if Briala saw her or not. Because she was alive and Gaspard was dead and that was all that mattered. She hoped the crowd’s cheers for the commander this morning had been a wake-up call for the ambassadors. Their people had spoken, and if they were truly good leaders, they would listen to them. Briala spent the rest of the day speaking to any advisor who would give her the time of day, engaging in conversation and trying to better herself in the eyes of her so called equals. It was an exhausting day all around. So much so, that Briala caught herself dozing at her desk when she heard a knock on her door that night.

Rubbing her eyes, Briala pulled open the door, surprised to find herself face to face with the commander. She had bathed, and though the swelling to the side of her head was significant, she looked much better than she did this morning. Her hair was pushed to the side again and she smiled kindly at Briala, dipping her head in greeting. Briala returned it and leaned against the door. “I suppose you came to tell me how wrong I was?”

Celene shook her head. “I came to thank you.”

Briala frowned, but opened the door, allowing Celene inside. “You have nothing to thank me for,” she said as she studied Celene’s tattoo again. She liked the way it trailed her spine and curved around her shoulder blades.

“I do,” Celene answered as she sat elegantly in Briala’s chair. “I wanted to thank you for coming this morning, even though you did not wish to. It…helped…having your support there.”

Briala smiled and sat on the arm of the chair. Celene looked up at her, scooting to the side of the chair to see her better.

“I didn’t want to see you die. I was very pleased to have been proving wrong.”

“As was I.”

Gently, Briala reached out and touched the swelling on the side of Celene’s head. “That looks bad,” she commented quietly.

“I’ve had worse,” Celene answered so casually Briala was inclined to believe her. Briala nodded, even as her fingers traced downwards to the curve of Celene’s cheekbone and then her jaw.

Celene turned her head, her hand lifting and holding in midair. She frowned, and Briala watched her eyes flicker to her tapered ears. All of her people had them. It made them different to all these people on the ground, with their strange, rounded ears. Something so simple…Briala reached out and traced the curve of Celene’s ear.

“May…may I?” Celene asked quietly, her eyes darting to Briala’s ears again.

Briala let out a short laugh and nodded, lowering herself onto the large chair next to Celene. It was large enough to fit them both, but not without their legs touching, and Briala felt the smooth material of Celene’s nightgown. The commander’s touch, as always, was feather light against her, tracing up and down her pointed ear. It made Briala’s skin tingle, and she concealed it by adjusting herself on the chair.

“Feels just like ours,” Celene said with a smile, dropping her hand.

“How do you do it?” Briala asked quietly.

Celene turned back towards her, and in their closeness Briala could see the different specks of color in her light blue eyes. “Hmm?”

Briala shook her head once. “All of those ambassadors turned against you. And you have to welcome them back tomorrow. Is it not exhausting to deal with such…bullshit day after day?”

“’Bullshit,’” Celene quoted with a soft laugh. “That is a word of yours I do not think I will become accustomed.”

“You know what it means, right?”

“I do. You use it often enough.”

Briala nudged Celene’s shoulder slightly and the commander shrugged. “We all do what we think we must to protect our people. It was not an easy decision for them to make.”

“Always thinking of others, huh?”

“It is my duty,” Celene said quietly. She took a deep breath, then mumbled, “Some, more than others.”

Briala felt her heart race and looked down at Celene’s hands. They were flat against her thighs, rigid, as Celene always seemed to be. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” she whispered back as her hand crept closer to the commander’s.

“There are many things wrong with that.”

Briala placed her hand over Celene’s, and was surprised when she did not pull away. “Like what?” she asked, looking up to find Celene staring at her. Her blue eyes were conflicted, brow furrowed as she studied Briala’s face. She licked her lips, swallowed, and gently moved forward.

Briala supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that Celene’s lips were just as gentle as her touch, questioning and tentative. She felt the cut on Celene’s lip, the ever so subtle taste of blood, and gripped tighter to the commander’s hand. Celene’s free hand came up to her face, cupped her cheek and played with her hair. Briala suppressed a moan at the back of her throat and pulled away. Celene’s hand left her face and the commander stood, even as Briala continued to keep their fingers laced. Realizing that Celene thought she’d done the wrong thing, Briala stood up with her and smiled. She gave Celene another chaste kiss and pulled away, watching as the commander’s eyes slowly opened.

“I’m sure this doesn’t complicate things at all, does it?” she teased, watching Celene give her a slight smile.

“What would life be without its complications,” Celene answered, squeezing Briala’s hand. “Goodnight, Ambassador.”

“Goodnight, Commander.”


	24. Makeup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making up after a big fight

It was autumn in Val Royeaux, and the empress' bedchamber was wonderfully cool. Outside, wind rushed through trees, made leaves shudder and branches creak. In the late hour, no other noise was heard, and the lavish sheets in which Briala rested underneath were warm and heavy. But even still, sleep did not come easy. She lay on her side on the edge of the bed, as far away from her lover as possible, and eyed the passageway with a glare. Earlier she longed to leave, longed to shatter the glass of the passageway as she exited. But that was petty, stupid, naive, and she was not those things anymore. She was a marquise, a noble, as much a threat on the ballroom as she was in the shadows. Celene knew it, too, and when she saw the calculating glint of Briala considering to make her leave, she made no protests.

What right did she have to protest anyway? Briala's anger was more than justified, and Celene knew it. And still the empress continued, stating her side and refusing to blindly accept the verbal blows Briala threw her way. Briala hated that she found Celene beautiful when impassioned, the ferocity in her eyes and subtle snarl of her full lips. And her attraction only made her angrier, and the love shared between them only made her bolder. The same was of Celene, and now, hours after they'd gone to bed fuming and tense, Briala could recognize they'd both said regrettable things.

Celene's bed was large, the best comfort that money could buy, but without Celene's chest to rest upon, it may as well have been a bedroll. Briala balled the sheets in her fists and pulled them up underneath her chin. She knew Celene was awake. Briala didn't need to hear the constant shifting on the other side, the sighs of frustration, the uneven breathing to know that. The empress did not sleep well as it was, and with the fight sending them off to bed and Briala nowhere near close enough to provide the comfort she required, it was likely to be a long night for them both.

Her reasons for their fight were still there, still strong, still _right_ in her opinion. But the anger dissipated hours ago. The heat of the moment that sent her off to the other side of the bed had faded, and despite the heavy sheets Briala found herself cold, lonely. She, like Celene, had learned to sleep without a lover. It was only logical given her new position in the Dales. But her time with Celene was precious, and to have her so close and yet so far away rendered an empty, nauseous feeling in her stomach. She longed to turn over, shimmy to the other side of the bed and touch Celene. But she knew she was still too fragile to face rejection, and the fear of Celene recoiling from beneath her touch was too much to bear. The covers shifted again behind her as Celene tried to find a comfortable position, and Briala dared to look over her shoulder at the empress.

She was also facing away, and through the outline of the sheets she could make out her tightly drawn shoulders, the rigidness of her spine. Briala's brow furrowed, wondering if Celene would even allow her to work out the tension in the morning, and guilt at letting this fight drag out for so long seeped into her mind.

Celene turned her head, and Briala was quick to turn back around so as to avoid being caught staring. She could feel Celene's eyes upon her, and she swallowed, fighting with conflicting opinions on how to respond, or if to respond at all.

"Bria," Celene whispered, "are you awake?"

And because Celene said it so quietly, so hopefully, Briala kept her voice level in response. "I am."

The covers shifted, the bed creaking as Celene slid nearer. Briala's heart raced just a bit faster, fearful of another fight yet longing for reconciliation. She felt Celene's hand on her hip on top of the sheets, a request, and when Briala did not respond the hand moved, circling over her waist and pulling her close. Though the sheets bunched between them, Briala fought back a sigh as she felt Celene's warm back against her, the feel of her breath upon her neck, and already her body felt more at ease, ready for sleep.

"I did not mean what I said to you at the end," Celene murmured after a moment. "I spoke out of anger, emotion, and it was not fair to you. And I should..." She paused, her grip tightening around Briala and the elf wondered if it was to cushion the blow of her next words. "I should take what you said into consideration. Perhaps it is not too late to utilize it."

Celene did not apologize. Apologies meant nothing. Mantillon taught her that lesson many years ago, and Briala knew that lessons taught by the dowager did not easily fade. But she was trying. And Briala need only feel her touch to know that Celene was sincere, and as apologetic as she could be. The elf sighed, and Celene's hand tightened around her, fearful of another attack. Briala eased her worry by untangling the sheet from her fist and reaching past the covers to trace the length of the empress' hand.

"I did not mean what I said at the end either. I know you do not make decisions lightly. And my temper was...I could have handled it better. I will, next time."

Celene breathed out a somber laugh against Briala's neck. "Because there will most certainly be a next time."

“We never were suited for complacency,” Briala answered with a soft smile as she adjusted the covers so that the empress was flush against her back. Celene moved her hand beneath the covers as well and held Briala tightly to her in an embrace while the elf stroked her arm. After a few more minutes, when Briala felt herself beginning to doze, she turned in Celene’s embrace and kissed her gently, pushing her onto her back.

Celene knew the position all too well and adjusted her arms to cradle Briala as she nestled up against Celene’s chest. The smell of Briala’s hair and the warmth of her breath brought a weary weight to the empress’ eyes. Feeling that she was still not quite close enough after their time apart, Briala slung one leg over Celene’s waist, smiling as the empress chuckled, and pulled her closer. She felt Celene’s lips in her hair, a lingering kiss and listened to the whispered words as Celene pulled away.

“I’m not going away, Bria. Never again.”

Briala answered with a kiss to Celene’s chest. “Good, because neither am I. No matter how much of a stubborn ass you are.”

Celene’s chest shook beneath Briala’s head as she chuckled, and the elf lifted her head only once more to kiss her lover goodnight before both fell asleep in each other’s arms.  


	25. Strap On Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what the title says. Be warned, it's probably not good. Explicit.

Celene looked down at the woman beneath her and smiled despite her nerves. Briala, eyes half-lidded, returned it, the hand on Celene's shoulder giving her a reassuring squeeze. It was dark in her bed chambers, save for the orange glow of the dying fire in the corner of the room. It barely touched Briala, but it was enough for Celene to see the eagerness in her eyes. She'd wanted this for so long, Celene knew, dropping hints and asking probing questions. Celene knew it was bound to happen eventually. And she didn't mind, truly. The only thing the empress ever wanted was to make her lover happy. And while she'd never been self-conscious about her lovemaking skills before, this was entirely foreign territory, and a small part of her worried that once she began, the excitement in Briala's eyes would fade into disappointment.

The empress swallowed and reached down to stroke Briala's soft curls. They splayed out beneath her head against the pillows and glowed softly in the fading light. Briala smiled again, showing a confidence Celene didn't quite feel, and reached out to grab the necklace that dangled over her. Celene felt herself being urged downward and obeyed, meeting Briala's waiting mouth. The elf shifted her hips, and brushed lightly against the device between Celene's legs. The empress jolted at the contact, unused to this new appendage with strange, likely dark magic that transmitted sensations to her body. She could feel the wet warmth of what awaited between her lover's legs, but unlike with her tongue or hands the feeling was stronger, more sensitive, tingling and pleasurable, as if it were she that was being touched instead.

Briala broke the deep kiss with a final, chaste peck, and hummed softly. She continued to move against Celene, testing the device and her lover, and a wicked grin crossed her features as Celene shut her eyes with a sharp intake of breath.

"Do you feel it?" Briala asked quietly, slowing her hips so Celene could answer more easily.

"Yes."

"How does it feel?"

"Strange."

"Bad strange or good strange?"

"Good. It's just...different."

Briala's hand came to rest against Celene's cheek, and her brow furrowed in concern. "Celene, if you are uncomfortable, we can--

"No." Celene shook her head and gave Briala another smile. "I want to try it. For you. I'm just worried I won't please you."

Briala's gentle chuckle resounded warmly in Celene's ear. "You've already pleased me, greatly, my love. Both by agreeing to this and what you did with that wicked tongue to get me ready for you."

Celene returned the soft laugh and dared to move the new extension of herself through Briala's folds, feeling indeed how wet she was, ready to receive her. Briala reached down, and Celene felt her warm hand around the device, the subtle pressure of her fingers, and the delicious sensations as she moved them up and down the length. Celene exhaled slowly and lowered herself to Briala's neck, sucking on her favorite spot as she tried to control herself. If Briala's hand and these slight touches felt this good, what came next seemed like it would be overwhelming. But this wasn't about her, and she'd need to keep her focus to make sure Briala got everything she wanted from her empress tonight.

Briala tugged gently, and Celene followed with her hips, feeling the head of the device as Briala guided it to her opening. Once positioned, Briala removed her hand and brought them both up to cup Celene's cheeks.

Celene kissed her one more time. "Are you ready?" She murmured against her lips.

"Yes," Briala breathed.

"Tell me everything," Celene demanded gently.

"I promise."

Celene nodded, swallowed once, and gently pushed inside of Briala. She went agonizingly slowly, feeling Briala stretch and adjust around her and making sure she was okay before going further. Celene had felt the inside of Briala on several occasions, but never like this. The warm, encompassing wetness had never felt so strongly, so slick and pleasurable between her legs that Celene had to resist the urge to go faster. By the time she was completely inside, Celene was breathless in anticipation, thighs trembling at the new and unique feeling the device transmitted to her.

Briala was breathless too, fingers digging into Celene's back as she grew accustomed to the length inside of her. Celene waited and tried not to move too much as she kissed Briala's neck and shoulder. Finally, Briala turned her head and met Celene's lips in a fierce kiss. Celene returned it and slipped her tongue into Briala's mouth as she felt the elf start to move her hips. Seeing her cue, Celene pulled out a bit, groaning at the feeling she received, and gently thrust back in. It was Briala's turn to moan, head thrown back and eyes shut as she began to grind her hips in rhythm with Celene's thrusts.

Celene used her free hand to run it up and down Briala's body, teasing her breasts and feeling the taut muscles of her abdomen. Briala wrapped a leg around her back and Celene scratched gently up her thigh to grab her backside, eliciting a lovely hiss from her lover. Celene's body was on fire, eager and impatient for more, but she kept her pace slow, enraptured by the sight of Briala unraveling beneath her. She could see and feel the rocking of Briala's hips, the way her breasts bounced with each soft thrust, Briala's parted lips and moans and sighs that told her everything she needed to know. Celene's own body pull forward her release and she kept it at bay, unsure if she'd be able to continue afterward. This was about Briala, first and foremost, and Celene lowered herself onto her lover, kissing her sweetly as Briala clutched at her back and moaned into her mouth.

When she sensed Briala growing impatient, Celene raised herself back up and brought her hand between Briala's legs, continuing her gentle thrusts, Celene found the nerves she was much more familiar with, and began to run her fingers in slow circles, mimicking the motions with her hips. Briala cried out and began to move harder against Celene, begging her to go faster. Briala's hand came up to Celene's face, and her thumb traced along her bottom lip. Celene smiled as she obeyed thrusting faster and just a bit harder into her lover. Briala was close, and in knowing this, Celene stopped holding her own release back as well.

Celene groaned and leaned forward, her forehead resting against Briala's as she worked her lover over the edge. Her thighs trembled, muscles she didn't know she possessed ached and fatigued, but Briala's moans were coming faster now. Short, sharp sounds that were punctured by each thrust of Celene's hips. Briala pulled Celene tighter to her, bit on her earlobe and begged her not to stop. Taking a chance, Celene buried herself fully inside of Briala, pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting in again and repeating. Briala's back arched of the bed, eyes shut as she cried out. Celene felt Briala clenching and shuddering around the device and continued her motions, drawing out her own release. They cried out together, mouths searching in a savage kiss as Celene carried them through their orgasms.

When she felt Briala's hips drop back onto the bed, Celene slowed, panting as she pulled away. Briala panted as well, still clinging tightly to Celene, legs secured around her waist.

"Maker's breath, Celene," she managed as she caught her breath. "I never could have imagined..." She drifted, choosing instead to kiss Celene's smiling lips again.

"I'm glad," Celene answered when she pulled away. When the empress made to pull herself out of Briala, she felt Briala's legs tighten around her, keeping her close and buried inside.

"Not yet?" She asked with a gentle raise of her eyebrows. "I like...feeling you inside me."

She seemed almost embarrassed by her admission, and Celene calmed her by kissing her again, relaxing her hips and returning what she'd removed back inside of Briala. "I like being inside you," she murmured in Briala's ear.

"Good," Briala answered with a laugh. And with a quick jerk of her hips, Celene suddenly found herself on her back with Briala straddling her hips. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

With a wicked grin, Briala lifted herself up and down a few times on Celene, humming when she felt the empress' hands on her hips and heard Celene give a soft moan. In the darkness, Briala's elven eyes could make out Celene's aroused grin, and she could feel the subtle, almost involuntary jerk of Celene's hips beneath her, pleading for more. Leaning down, Briala kissed Celene gently.

"Thank you," she whispered as she pulled away.

"My pleasure," Celene returned with a self-satisfied smirk.

Briala rolled her eyes and ground her hips forward harshly, deciding she much preferred the sound of Celene's moans to her terrible jokes. 


End file.
